


Rocket Man

by AKMars



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Artificial Intelligence, M/M, Military Violence, Pre-Slash, alien/medical experimentation (future chapters), dub con/non con (future chapters)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-27 17:00:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKMars/pseuds/AKMars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, yep there's only one way to describe this: RINCH....IN....SPAAAAAACE!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Title: Rocket Man  
Chapter I: T-11 Hours and Holding  
Rating: T to NC-17  
Pairing: Harold Finch/John Reese  
Tags: pre-slash, M/M, SF, interstellar travel, artificial intelligence  
Warnings: dubcon/noncon (in future chapters), military violence, alien/medical experimentation

NOTES: holy freakin' crap.....like I needed still ANOTHER plotbunny showing up but this one I can totally blame on my pining for on-screen Finch/Reese interactions during the hiatus, Elton John's appearance on the Emmy Awards broadcast and seasoned by my recent viewing of 'Apollo 18' on Netflix (bad, bad mistake on my part). So hang on to your butts, it's gonna be a bumpy ride through hyper-space!

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

_'Ladies and gentlemen we are approaching Calla Station. Please return to your seats, secure your personal belongings and prepare for docking sequence. Thank you for traveling with us and we hope you have had a pleasant voyage.'_

The calm perfection of the artificial voice was programmed at the exact pitch and tone calculated to best reassure passengers. The fact that only one of the sixty occupants in the civilian compartment realized it, was amusing to that individual. 

The slender, middle-aged man stowed his reading tablet in the bag at his side and observed his fellows with quiet interest. The couple on what was obviously an anniversary trip... _based on how ‘tactile’ they are, the children have been left at home_ ; a group of corporate executives, high-ranking if the number of ‘personal drones’ circling them were any indication. The rest comprised a collection of tourists, trades people and members of the military on their way out or returning home. Then there was himself, Harold Feenyx.

When asked the purpose of his journey, Feenyx had replied “business”. His comment had been duly noted on the passenger manifests and the kiosk dispensed his seat assignment. The polite, unassuming man had ingratiated himself with the cabin stewards without even trying and Feenyx, even knowing it for what it was, appreciated the carefully cultivated professional courtesy they extended to him. It made such a contrast to when he was ‘working’. 

The shuttle, **_Passn’Thru_** (Harold shuddered at the tradition of naming recreational transports after the personal aquatic vehicles of twentieth century era _progenitors_. Each spaceline tried to outdo the other in regards to tasteless puns) discharged its human contents out into the arrival concourse.

Feenyx stood to one side, well out of the way of departing passengers, taking in his surroundings. Calla Station was on the smaller scale of space ports but still very impressive in its own right. Harold was relieved to see the exit portals clearly marked and pulling out his tablet, rechecked the number for the commercial docking bay he needed find. His new ship was waiting for him and Feenyx found himself looking forward to boarding the **_Prometheus_**. It was a fresh start, a new vessel and perhaps....just this once...things would be different.

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

Major John Reese sprinted down the docking bay; dodging cargo hovers, drones and the odd civilian with equal ease. He wasn’t late...nope, not by any stretch of the imagination; he just wasn’t exactly _on time_.

Slinging his dufflebag over his shoulder, Reese increased his stride and bounded over a large storage unit waiting to be loaded into the **_Prometheus’_** hold, startling its owner. An exclamation of disapproval caused him to turn his head and grinning over his shoulder he threw a “Sorry, in a hurry here!” back to the slender man supervising the cargo drone.

John leapt onto the staff lift just as it began its ascent to the habitat levels. He looked back down at the fellow he’d almost bowled over in his haste to make his berth. The man’s clothing was of a conservative cut but the muted dove gray of his tunic was contrasted by bands of teal at the collar and cuffs. He had a pre-occupied air about him as he joined the queue for the next staff lift.

_Sciences, I bet....he looks like an exo-biologist or geologist._ Reese frowned, the man had a noticeable limp. _Definitely exo-biologist, probably injured in the field._ He seemed rather fussy and stand-offish. The grin returned to the Major's face. _Maybe I'll run into him again during the voyage._ John always enjoyed deflating pompous researchers and their ‘oh so important projects to benefit all the galaxy’.

 **rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

NOTES: Harold’s position on board the **_Prometheus_** will be clarified in the next chapter as will the premise of my PoI SpaceVerse in the chapter notes. 

This first chapter is short, mainly because I wanted to get this idea dump recorded before I lost it. In regards to my already ongoing stories, I will be concentrating on them in this order: ‘Clockwork’, ‘Eagle & Shrike’ (both of which have quite a few chapters to go) and ‘FCIP’ (which will be wrapped up in another two chapters at most).

I love how ‘Person of Interest’ has kick-started my creativity into high gear but I think I’m falling victim to the old phrase ‘too much of a good thing’. I ask in advance for my readers patience and indulgence. I may pop out the odd one-shot here and there but I will try my best not to fall under the plotbunny siren song of new multi-chapter sagas, lol!!!


	2. T-6 Hours and Holding

Title: Rocket Man  
Chapter II: T-6 Hours and Holding  
Rating: T to NC-17  
Pairing: Harold Finch/John Reese  
Tags: pre-slash, M/M, SF, interstellar travel, artificial intelligence  
Warnings: dubcon/noncon (in future chapters), military violence, alien/medical experimentation

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

Wrongfooted by the oaf who'd vaulted over his storage container, Harold Feenyx was feeling a bit out of his element as he rode the staff lift. He focused his attention on the vessel he was about to board. The ship, or what little he could see of it within the thirty meter wide containment field, looked sleek and beautiful. Feenyx regained a bit of his enthusiasm as the lift opened into the atrium airlock.

Harold studied the interactive ship's schematic and decided that introductions might be a good way to begin. He entered a transport unit and in moments was headed to the bridge of the **_Prometheus_**. When the transport disgorged him into the nerve center of the great ship, Feenyx kept well out of the way, looking around to try and spot the captain. 

"May I help you sir?" A tall, black-haired man appeared at Harold's elbow. His manner was courteous although his eyes reflected a certain world-weariness that only came from being responsible for the lives of others. Feenyx smiled at him.

"Are you the captain?"

"First officer Donnelly, were you in need of assistance?"

"I am Specialist Harold Feenyx. I just wanted to let the captain know that I'd arrived."

Commander Donnelly pulled out his touch pad. "I can log you in now Specialist Feenyx."

He offered the tablet and Harold pressed his thumb against the plasflex surface. The commander tapped in a search query, scanning over the results as they appeared on the screen. His eyes widened and when he looked at Harold again, his face was neutral...almost cold.

"Interface Specialist Feenyx, are you currently wearing your bio suit?"

"I, no....you see, I've only just arrived and thought it best that-"

"Your first duty shift is scheduled for 08:00 hours tomorrow. Do not return to the bridge before then and _do not_ appear for duty out of uniform."

Harold's mouth dropped open in astonishment at the other man's tone. His voice was harsh as if he were speaking to a disobedient child... _or a dog_ , Feenyx thought angrily. He frowned, allowing some of his annoyance to spill out.

“Commander Donnelly, I request to speak with the captain immediately!”

“The captain, unlike yourself, is on duty and engaged in business important to the operation of this vessel.” The taller man stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. “You have your orders IS Feenyx. I suggest you take advantage of your downtime to clothe yourself in a more _appropriate_ manner. Dismissed!”

The commander’s pointed nod towards the transport lift was unmistakable. Gathering up the remains of his pride, Harold turned his back on Donnelly and limped away.

“It’s bad enough they sent us a pushy comm, how disappointing to find he's damaged as well.” 

The commander’s remark was met with a smattering of laughter from the bridge crew; inspiring others to voice their opinions as well.

_“Moves like a broken drone....”_

_“Let’s hope he interfaces better than he walks.”_

_“If he can’t we're screwed...”_

Mercifully the transport doors slid shut, silencing the judgmental chatter. Feenyx’s tablet chimed and he pulled it out. The commander had just forwarded his cubicle assignment and Harold was dismayed to see that it was on a deck just two levels above the largest cargo hold. That meant he’d be cold for the majority of the voyage.

Feenyx took a few deep breaths to try and regain his composure. He knew he would find his storage containers piled haphazardly outside his quarters, with no chance of requisitioning a cargo drone to help move them in. _Nothing’s changed...in fact-_

The lift stopped after just a few decks, its doors opening to allow a passenger entrance. Like Donnelly, the newcomer's hair was black; only cut to a shorter military-style length. Unlike Donnelly, when _this_ man turned to nod a greeting, his blue eyes warmed and a toothy smile spread over his face. “I remember you! Hope I didn’t frighten you too much.”

_-things just got worse......_ Feenyx groaned. It was the luggage-leaping barbarian come to plague him again.

“I was only frightened by your lack of courtesy.” he retorted coolly.

The man threw back his head and laughed as the lift continued its descent. Feenyx eyed him through his lenses as if the newcomer might be mad.

He held out his hand. “Major John Reese, Chief of Security.”

Warily Harold clasped it; pumped once, then let it go. “You may call me Specialist Feenyx.”

John looked puzzled. “You’re not an exo-biologist?”

“No. Where did you acquire that absurd assumption?”

“I just...I mean....you look like a data cruncher but,” Reese waved his hand at Harold’s bad leg, “with your limp I thought you must have been injured while on a mission.”

Feenyx’s gray eyes grew cold. He took a half-step back from the major. 

“You might want to peruse some remedial logic texts, Major. Your deductive reasoning skills should be better honed....especially since you're our Security Chief.”

“Easy Feenyx...that’s a mighty big chip you’re carrying around; sure your shoulders can take it?” John smiled, inviting the older man to share his joke.

Harold looked away. “You’d be surprised at what I’m capable of _taking_ , Major Reese.”

John shut his mouth and really looked at the man standing next to him. _Older...mid-fifties probably. Injuries to cervical and lumbar vertebrae as well as one leg and hip. Slight tremor along his spine.... it's because he’s angry!_ Reese studied Feenyx’s face, noting the spots of color staining his cheeks and the lines around his mouth.

“What is your position on the ship Specialist Feenyx?” John asked with careful courtesy.

_Here it comes. I wonder how long it will take for him to try and make me 'do tricks' for him?_

“I am the Interface Specialist for the **_Prometheus_**.”

Reese’s eyes widened. He let out a whistle. “IS? I’ve never met an Interfacer before.”

Feenyx faced him again. _He sounds impressed and curious._ Those facts alone caused Harold to take a second look at the Major. _Height just over two meters...hair slightly gray at the temples, mid forties perhaps. Fit, capable and knows it...he probably has many friends._ Harold would wager that the chief was well-liked by his subordinates.

Reese’s face showed similar worry lines due to the demands of his responsibilities but Feenyx had seen the Major’s light-hearted side. He sensed the although the man took his duties to ship and crew very seriously, he did not allow them to consume him.

“Are you on duty?”

“I beg your pardon?” Reese’s question shook Harold out of his contemplation.

“I don’t want to interfere with your work.”

“Ah...no, I’m just on my way to find my quarters.” _He really **hasn’t** met an IS._

The lift halted a second time. John nodded to the opening doors. “My deck. Nice to actually _meet_ you Feenyx.” and with a mock-salute the man was gone. 

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

Harold Feenyx stared sadly at the jumble of containers beside the door to his cubicle. It didn't surprise him that his prediction had been true. If he'd held off his trip to the bridge, for even an hour, they probably would have at least been put inside his quarters. Sorting them out would have to wait until tomorrow, after his duty shift ended. For now Feenyx opened one; pulling out his toiletries, a few articles of clothing and his bio suit. Sealing the container against any attempted pranks by his crewmates, Harold stepped into the suite that would be his home for the next six months.

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

NOTES: Some of you are probably wondering why Harold's reception by some of the crew has been so negative. More of this will be discussed in upcoming chapters but for now I'll just say that ISs (Interface Specialists) are looked upon with much fear and suspicion, if not outright disgust, by the majority of human society. 'Normal' people consider those who manifest interface abilities and actually _use_ them to be bordering on indecent behavior; an attitude only fostered by the bio suits the ISs must wear while working. (Again, I'll go into detail about that in the next chapter.)

 ** _comm_** : Shortening of the words 'communications device'. It is a pejorative term used to refer to Interface Specialists, inferring that they are sub-human and merely tools to be used to help a starship operate. 

Finally, my take on a Sci-Fi universe will probably wind up being very different from those that most folks are used to. I won't be concentrating on ship propulsion systems, detailed technological explanations or attempting to correctly incorporate actual science into things. (Translation: I'll do my best to make it work, bend a few rules in the name of creative license and make up a bunch of stuff whole-cloth....please don't bust my chops for it, thankyouinadvance!)


	3. T-3 Hours and Holding

Title: Rocket Man  
Chapter III: T-3 Hours and Holding  
Rating: M  
Pairing: Harold Finch/John Reese  
Tags: pre-slash, M/M, SF, interstellar travel, artificial intelligence  
Warnings: dubcon/noncon (in future chapters), military violence, alien/medical experimentation

 

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

_06.14.2657, Alliance Standard Datestamp: Alpha Quadrant (18 years prior)_

 

_‘Not bad for the wunderkind 'Bugfairy'....a smug grin spread over Harold's face as he took in the view from the floor to ceiling transplex wall behind his private workstation. ‘Head of R & D for IF Technologies? You're doing well for yourself Finch and it is about time.’ _

_Harold Finch, the kid who spent his downtime building computers and drones out of spare parts in his dad's shop....who'd sweated and worked to save enough credits to pay his shuttle passage to the moon so that he could actually use the scholarship he'd earned to attend the prestigious Lunar Institute of Technological Sciences. Finch, skinny, introverted...dubbed ‘Wary Harry’ thanks to his penchant for keeping the rest of his classmates at arms’ length had finally paid his dues and was at long, long last getting to reap the sweet rewards of all that hard work._

_Finch had started as a lowly code checker for IFT, fast-tracking his way up the tech ladder thanks to his talent for ‘bug sniffing’ and his gift for innovative code building. Now at age forty, he’d been made department head of research and development in record time. He could afford to take a few days to savor the perks of his new position...then it would be nose to the grindstone once again. ‘But this time, it will be to do **my** work on my own terms!’_

_He’d been happy for six full months before the headaches began. A week later he was checked into the MedPlex and enduring endless tests, examinations, re-tests before being told he’d manifested **interface** talents. Within a scant twenty-four hours Harold Finch had his cube confiscated, been terminated from his job and shipped off to a ‘training facility’. The life he had, the person he had **been** for the past forty years ceased to exist. He was now Interface Specialist Finch and his journey into hell was only beginning......._

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

_09.29.2675, Alliance Standard Datestamp: Explorer-Class Vessel **‘Prometheus’** (present)_

John Reese stepped onto the security level with a distracted air. His conversation with Feenyx had been brief but it had given him much to think about. The major shrugged, _first things first. I've my team to brief and my own cube to see to._ Reese's mind drifted back to Feenyx's obvious anger and, now that John re-considered the other man's reactions, embarrassment. _I wonder what happened to him before I got on the transport lift.......think I'll do some digging in regards to our IS later._

Satisfied with his prioritization of things, Major Reese pressed his palm to the door sensor; leaning forward at the same time to allow the retina scanner confirm his identity. The lock indicator cycled from red to green and the door to the 'inner sanctum' as his second in command called it slid open. He went straight to the mess hall first.

"Major on deck!" 

Reese held in a smile at the familiar voice. His eyes traveled over the assembled personnel now standing at attention. He'd worked with almost all of them before, in fact there was only one he didn't recognize..... _must be Ensign Hersh._

The other four members were known quantities and Reese was pleased that they’d chosen to throw in with him when they'd transitioned from military service into the private sector. The **_Prometheus’_** mission was sanctioned by the Alliance but its crew from the captain on down were civilians; most of them science and tech. Eighty was a small enough compliment for a deep space venture but John also knew the captain personally and was confident in his commanding officer’s abilities.

 

_Ensign Samantha Shaw was a more than capable soldier, excelling at hand to hand. Reese had seen her take down assailants more than twice her size, almost without breaking a sweat. She’d started out well; her determination to make good earning her the rank of Lieutenant in less than four years. However, her tendency to question her superiors plus a lack of regard for others sabotaged her. Shaw was opinionated, more mulish than a career jar-head and the most amoral person Reese had ever met. Her fall from grace had been even more spectacular than her meteoric rise....._

_The Alliance’s ‘problem child’ was sent to him as a final alternative to washing her out of the service. Major Reese turned Shaw’s destructive traits into assets, giving her the work she was most suited to: solitary ops, infiltration and take down. She also proved to be a frighteningly accurate sniper. Shaw settled into her new role and lowered rank well. “I don’t want a command...too many people to worry about and way too much trouble. I’d rather just shoot things.“_

_John’s perseverance garnered him a commendation from his superiors and the awe of his peers._

_He admitted to himself that he was a bit worried Shaw would not have enough to do on this mission but Reese had learned from experience that it was best to keep Sam on a close leash. The ensign actually respected him as a leader, a **first** for Shaw, and most of the time she willingly went along with his orders._

_Lt. Tyrell Goodman had been in the Major’s original infantry unit in the Alliance Forces. The sharp-shooter was quick thinking, level headed and calm in times of crisis. Evans had been recruited by a high-ranking Alliance spook in his third year of service. Reese had wished him well and hoped that his friend’s new career would pay out for the lieutenant._

_He’d not seen or heard from Ty again until he showed up on Reese’s doorstep six months ago. The man was in poor shape. He’d obviously been living ‘off grid’ and was on his last reserves. John gladly took him in, getting his story piecemeal as Goodman slowly recovered. The clandestine work he’d been recruited to do was nothing more than ‘cleaning house via assassination’ for the Alliance's ‘cloaked ops’ division._

_Disgusted by what they were forcing him to do, Tyrell faked his death and changing his last name to Evans, worked his way back to Reese’s location by taking low-grade jobs on transport shuttles. Reese offered Evans the position of third officer under him on the **Prometheus** and Ty gratefully accepted. Getting far out into deep space was exactly what he needed to sustain his fictional demise. There was always the chance that ‘cloaked ops’ personnel might still be looking for him._

_Ensign William Szymanski was exactly what he appeared to be, a loyal soldier who’d become an honest security officer. He was personable, polite and had a genuine desire to help people. Reese admired him, thinking that he himself might have turned out like Bill if John’s own circumstances had been different. The major had seen too much violence and been forced to make too many ‘best outcome with the least amount of damage’ decisions to ever be that innocent again. Reese needed Szymanski around to remind him what it was like to be **normal**._

_John’s second officer was Lt. Commander Lionel Fusco. Lionel was also a part of John’s first command. He was on the short side, muscular and solid like a heavy-work drone and utterly loyal to Reese. Foe and friend alike tended to underestimate him; a trait that Fusco exploited with finesse. Lionel played the trickster to perfection and in consequence was worth any five espionage agents the Alliance could field in terms of the intel he gathered._

 

“As you were.” Reese smiled as four of his five officers watched him, alert for any orders he might issue. Shaw just picked up the steak she’d been gnawing on before Reese came in, favoring the major with a small portion of her attention while continued her meal.

“Glad to see you all made it aboard before launch.”

“ _You_ too, Major Reese.” Fusco quipped, knowing his boss’ habit of cutting his arrival times close.

“Nice to know you still have your sense of humor, Fusco. It will keep you company when you’re patrolling the _underbelly_ tomorrow.”

Lionel opened his mouth to protest, only to choke off his comment at Reese’s quirked eyebrow. 

“Would you like to spend the week down there, Lt. Commander?”

“No Sir. Apologies Sir.”

“Accepted.” Major Reese looked over the others. “All of you, finish settling in tonight and get your quarters ship-shape for inspection at 07:00. After that, everyone but Fusco will be assigned their sectors. Dismissed.”

Reese exited the mess hall, seeking out his own cubicle. He entered, palming the environmental panel and was pleased to see everything in order. John had never asked or required his second officer to act as his ‘aide de camp’, but Lionel had taken the duty on himself. Fusco was something of a neat freak and, in spite of the tough guy persona he projected, was keenly sensitive to rank and how his commanding officer should present himself. Reese had given up fighting Lionel on it years ago and just accepted it as a necessary evil for having such an organized second.

His door chime sounded and John grinned, knowing who it would be.

“Enter.”

Sure enough Fusco slipped inside, his hazel eyes darting around the main living area as if daring anything to be out of place.

“All to your satisfaction, Major?”

“It’s just fine, Lionel.”

Fusco relaxed a fraction. “Look, you know I was just kidding out there, Sir....”

Reese kept his eyes on the starfield visible through the plexpanel window. “I know, but we have two _new_ faces out there....ones who don’t know yet how we operate.”

Lionel wilted. “I’m sorry Major Reese...”

John laughed, taking pity on the man. “For someone so caught up in rank and protocol, you dropped the ball there Fusco. So you’ll patrol below for two days, show the rest of the team that you’ve learned your lesson and all’s well.”

“Yes Sir.”

Reese nodded. “Alright then. Everything looks good.” He indicated his quarters. “Send Lt. Evans in to see me and then stand down for the night. By all accounts this should be an easy in and out voyage. Our worst enemy might be boredom.”

Lionel saluted, grinning in agreement before he exited.

John settled into his workstation, pulling up personnel files. Now that he’d settled his team, the problem of IS Feenyx pushed again to the front of mind. He brought up the tech’s information:

_**Feenyx, Harold:** m, 58. Manifested interface talents at age 50. Received nano-implants. Training completed, age 52. **First assignment:** interplanetary mass-transit vessel **'Grace'**. IS for five years until the ship was de-commissioned. Returned to Interface Academy for remedial training. **Second assignment:** deep-space exploration vessel **‘Prometheus'**. **Secondary skills:** Computer repair. **Berth Assignment:** Deck 40, Section 9-C, Cubicle A41._

Reese frowned. There wasn’t much there....no notations of censure or of praise. No promotions, demotions, commendations or personal information of any kind. _Was this typical of IS techs? And his cube is in the underbelly?_ The major was still puzzling over what he was seeing when his door chime sounded again.

“Enter.”

Tyrell Evans strode into Reese’s quarters. John rose to meet him, pulling the burly dark-skinned man into a firm hug. “Ty, I’m glad you decided to come with us.”

“I appreciate the chance to escape, John.” Evans replied, keeping his voice quiet. A decade of clandestine work had left Tyrell with a heightened sense of personal caution.

“It’s probably going to be the dullest mission you’ve ever had, I’m afraid.”

Both men sat down, John glad to be able to fully relax in his friend’s company. “I met our IS today.”

Reese was surprised to see Tyrell’s interest piqued. “Yeah? What they like?”

“Small guy, bit older than us. I get the feeling that he’s not liked much by the rest of the crew...I can’t imagine why.” John shrugged. “He’s a bit prickly but he seems decent enough.”

Evans grunted. “He’s _prickly_ because people have already started in on him.”

Reese eyed his friend. “You know from experience, don’t you? Talk to me Ty, the _Interfacer_ is the one person who will stand between us and ship’s systems failure when the chips are down. If Feenyx is being harassed, I need to know why the crew would be that stupid.”

The look Tyrell turned on him was one of pure astonishment. “You really don’t know, do you?”

“Enlighten me.”

“John on most ships' _interfacers_ are the lowest of the low, considered one step up from drones if they’re lucky. I haven’t interacted with many but on my last mission for ‘cloaked ops’, I spent four months in deep cover as a security grunt on the **_‘Homeland'_**. Our IS was Alicia Corwin, a very gifted tech and passionate about her job.”

Evans paused, searching back through his memories. “There were only thirty on the crew but all of them treated her like dirt...sending her into _rapport_ just because they thought it was funny, like some kind of magic trick and in one case.....” Tyrell grimaced. “The head of engineering was a sick piece of work. I’d already begun watching out for Corwin and followed her when Simmons ordered her to the engine room so that he could run some diagnostic tests.”

“Simmons got her into _rapport_ and was stripping off when I snuck in. Clearly he was going to rape her while she was connected to the ship.”

Reese cursed, disgusted by what Ty had told him. “What did you do?”

“I stunned the son ofa bitch and cuffed him to his console, with his pants around his ankles. I was able to get Alicia to follow me to the infirmary and the head medic brought her out of _rapport_. I would have done it myself but I didn’t have the security clearance.”

“You reported it of course.”

“For all the good it did. The captain just blustered about how sometimes things get misinterpreted and I must have not understood what I’d seen. Simmons didn’t even get a slap on the wrist, so ‘unofficially’ I paid him another visit...told him that if he came near Corwin again I’d leave him with no equipment to try his stunt on anyone else.”

John approved wholeheartedly but it still appalled him that the situation had even occurred. “Maybe its my lack of experience with ISs talking but...”

“Why does it happen? Fear mostly. I mean, in the average person’s mind how could anyone even _think_ of giving up control of their body to anyone, much less a computer? Their uniforms don’t help things. The bio-suits _interfaces_ have to wear are nothing more than synthskin coverings and because of the sensors in them, the techs can’t have any layers underneath that would interfere with _rapport_.”

Tyrell indicated his crotch. “The first time an IS goes into _rapport_ with a new ship, the bio-suit sensors calibrate themselves to the vessel’s computer signals. Many times this causes physical symptoms in the tech, including involuntary sexual response. Imagine how that would feel, getting a hard on in front everyone your first day on the job.”

Reese winced in sympathy. “So there are idiots out there who think-”

“That the techs get off on that. Consider them exhibitionists almost.”

Reese was disturbed at what his friend had told him. It certainly explained Feenyx’s attitude. The **‘Prometheus’** was only the tech’s second berth but if he’d been subject to similar treatment in his previous assignment; was _already_ being marginalized on this ship.... _I’d be more than just ‘standoffish’....I’d be constantly ready to defend myself._

“And Specialist Corwin?”

“Thank God Alicia didn’t remember anything about the incident. Things would have been okay after that; Simmons passed word around that if anyone messed with Corwin they’d have me to deal with and the crew left her alone, but we ran into some mechanical problems on our way home and...”

“Ty?”

"John, I'm telling you it was horrible to watch." Tyrell's voice hardened. "The captain was inexperienced and so frightened of the **_‘Homeland'_** breaking down, he insisted Specialist Corwin keep her channel open so he could monitor the ship."

“He kept her in continuous _rapport_?” John was appalled. “For how long?”

“Five days. By the time we returned to base, Alicia was burned out...unable to link with the **_‘Homeland'_** on even a basic level. She was taken straight to medical once we docked but the damage was done."

"Did she recover?" 

"She was dead within the week." Evans scowled, his anger at the situation palpable to the other soldier. 

"John, IS's are rare, especially high-rated ones like Corwin was. Alicia did her best to keep the **_‘Homeland'_** in top form. She was harassed and worked to death for her dedication. That captain knew what he was doing.... **all** command personnel are trained on _interface_ abilities and limitations. They know they can’t push ISs too far and yet no-one censured him. I don't understand how the Alliance can justify the conditions ISs endure daily as being acceptable!"

“I‘m going to have a word with the captain after our morning briefing, Ty. Our job is to make this ship safe for everyone, including and especially our IS tech.”

“You’ve got my vote John. And I’ll have your back on this.”

Reese clapped a hand on Evan’s shoulder. “I know you will.”

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

NOTES: as always, there's the obligatory background info before the real fun begins. Just a heads up that the trust/relationship between Feenyx and Reese will progress more quickly in 'Rocket Man' than in my other stories. Although this will somewhat OOC, it means that the smut will also be incorporated into the plot that much sooner (huzzah sez all the Rinchers!!).

 **Interface Specialists** or **Interfacers** will be elaborated on as the story progresses. As Ty said, allowing your body to be taken over, even briefly by a _machine_ , is something that the average citizen would never condone. The fact that Interfacers do it ‘voluntarily’ is seen as bizarre and deviant, almost perverted. 

**Bugfairy:** is computer slang used to describe an individual who brings or reports a bug or error to a program developer.

 **cube** or **cubicle:** living quarters, an individual residence unit. This term is used as a catch all for everything from a posh estate to a one room dorm dwelling.

Tyrell’s backstory has been altered to fit the circumstances of this AU. As for Finch’s name change? Well, this wouldn’t be a ‘Person of Interest’ AU without the constant of Harold’s shifting identities, now would it? (grin)

Thanks for coming along on this romp through the stars!


	4. T-1 Hour and Holding

Title: Rocket Man  
Chapter IV: T-1 Hour and Holding  
Rating: T to NC-17  
Pairing: Harold Finch/John Reese  
Tags: slash, M/M, SF, interstellar travel, artificial intelligence  
Warnings: dubcon/noncon (in future chapters), military violence, alien/medical experimentation, verbal/emotional humiliation

NOTE: Just a reminder that Harold’s last name in the flashbacks is still Finch. Also, thanks to my readers who are sticking with this story. There will be Rinch to come soon, please be patient!

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

 ** _Interface Training Facility (18 years prior)_**

_“Please leave your clothing and all personal belongings in the changing room, trainee Finch. Everything you require in the program will be provided for you....”_

_Harold was subjected to more tests, more examinations before being sedated and injected with nano implants without his consent. He spent three days afterward unable to do more than lay on the bunk in his cell, there was no other word for the spartan room Finch had been assigned, and wait for the pain in his spine to subside. There was no escaping his fate now._

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

**_09.29.2675, Alliance Standard Datestamp: Explorer-Class Vessel ‘Prometheus’ (present)_ **

Harold slid a finger across his chest, securing the seal on his bio suit. He stretched, working his injured muscles as best he could. The synth-skin covering him shivered as conformed to the lines of his body. In a matter of seconds it felt as if he were wearing nothing at all. He moved through his darkened quarters and carefully lowered himself down onto his sleeping platform. 

Normally an IS would undergo Primary Interface in the infirmary. The Chief Medic would open the channel, then monitor the tech's reactions to make certain that no harm came to them during rapport. It also spared the interfacer undue embarrassment as any secondary effects would not be witnessed by other crewmembers. Medics at least were bound by professional discretion. Once the initial linking was complete, the IS could be sent into rapport at any location on the ship without detrimental consequences; at least in regards to _physical_ damage to the tech. Feenyx however, was not a typical IS....nor was the **_Prometheus_** an average star ship. Alone of all interfacers, Harold was able to enter rapport at will. 

It was of absolute importance that Primary Interface with _this_ ship take place on Feenyx's terms. Every decision, every action of Harold's for the past six years had led to this. His appointment to this berth was planned for from the moment the IS had first conceived the concept of the **_Prometheus'_** programming. This vessel was his, in more direct and substantial ways than any who had poured funds or labor into its production.

Harold took a deep breath and closed his eyes. It was time to meet his creation.

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

**_09.30.2675, Standard Datestamp: Explorer-Class Vessel ‘Prometheus’ (present)_ **

"Look, it's the _comm_!"

Feenyx continued his meal, giving no indication that he'd heard the sneering comment. He'd expected something of the sort before now and had planned to breakfast in his quarters. The chill of the underbelly forced Harold to broach the canteen for the simple necessity of getting warm. _I can just imagine how much worse it's going to feel when we're in deep space._ Exposing himself to possible hazing was the unfortunate side-effect.

"I'm talking to you _comm...._ " footsteps approached him from behind, pausing as his harassers took in Feenyx's apparent obliviousness. 

_"We'll show him, watch this"_ , the obvious ringleader stepped forward. "Open interface."

Harold took another bite of his eggs Benedict and appeared absorbed in the contents of his tablet.

"Open interface! Hey _comm_ , you defective or something?!" The sharp prod of a finger in Feenyx's shoulder negated any chance of ignoring the troublemakers. 

Setting aside his fork, Harold slowly turned in his seat to regard the group of three. All wore the insignia of engineering on their coveralls and none showed an officer's ranking. The IS gave them a cool once over before resting his gaze on the man who'd touched him.

"Did you need assistance with something gentlemen? As I'm not on duty nor a member of security; you might wish to avail yourselves of their services instead."

The leader gaped at him for a moment before scowling down at the older man.

"Look _comm_ , you're supposed to link anytime you're told to. **_Open interface!"_**

Harold waited a few seconds. His tormentors just stared at him in surprise when he didn't fall into rapport on command. When Feenyx spoke his tone dripped scorn. 

"I am the IS on this ship and I do perform my assigned duties, _for those members of the crew with the proper authority_. You, for reasons that are painfully obvious, have not been granted that."

He turned back to his meal, knowing that even bullies as stupid as these wouldn't physically accost him in such a public place. Feenyx made a mental note to stick to populated transport lifts for the next few days and to avoid all engineering personnel for the immediate future. Other than the department chief, no-one else in that discipline should be on the bridge at least.

“Useless cripple, don’t know why they sent us a reject.” 

Harold sighed in relief as the men moved off. He downed the last of his tea and checked the chrono display on his tablet. If he left now he’d arrive at the bridge with five minutes to spare and given Commander Donnelly’s attitude during their previous encounter, Feenyx had no wish to antagonize the man further. _It’s the same here as it was on all my previous assignments. I expected nothing less really._ He permitted himself a smug smile as the lift carried him up to his post. His first communion with the ship had been remarkable.

Feenyx’s real work with the **_Prometheus_** promised to more than repay the petty annoyances of his crewmates’ bigotry.

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

Captain Josslyn Carter sat laughing over coffee with her chief of security.

“John, I’m glad you put in for this position....it’s good to have a responsible officer aboard for a change,” she clicked mugs with him “not to mention a friend I haven’t seen in far too long.”

Reese grinned at her over his drink. “Wouldn’t have missed it for anything, Joss. You seem to have adapted to civilian life.” He nodded at the well-furnished bridge cabin that doubled as her duty office. 

Carter laughed. “I admit, the transition from fighter pilot to captain of a deep explorer vessel was a stretch but it’s worked out well.” She offered him a refill. 

John was pleased at how quickly he and Josslyn had fallen back into the familiar patterns of their friendship. Although they hadn’t served in the same platoon, Carter’s flight of six Archer class attack ships often provided protection for long-range Alliance convoys. They’d gotten to know each other during a hop to the Tau Sector. In any case, she seemed to still be the open, grounded person he remembered from his military days. 

Reese decided it was safe enough to broach his concerns about Specialist Feenyx.

“Joss, how much do you know about your Interface Specialist?”

Carter stood up, draining the last of her coffee and dropping the mug into the matter recycling station. “Haven’t met him yet.” She shrugged. “There’s nothing in his file about problems or ‘behavioral issues’, so I’d say no news is good news.”

_“Behavioral issues?”_ Reese repeated, disbelief coloring his voice. “What exactly does that mean?”

Josslyn laughed at her friend as she shrugged into her uniform jacket. “IS’s have a notorious reputation for being overly dramatic, shall we say.” She indicated that Reese proceed her to the door. 

“Feenyx’s record is clean, so I’m praying that means he’ll keep quiet and out of my way until he’s needed.”

John was thrown off-balance by his friend’s words. “You are aware that interfacers deal with a lot of prejudice on the parts of other crew members, right?”

The captain snorted. “I know you always want to look out for the underdog, John but I’m sure that IS Feenyx will be able to take care of himself. If the man's truly unhappy then he can come to me, just like any of my crew.” She clapped him on the shoulder.

“Now let’s get this bird out of the nest for its first flight!”

Reese shook his head as he followed after his commanding officer.

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

“Captain on deck!” Donnelly’s voice carried over the bridge and all hands present turned towards the bridge cabin doorway. 

“As you were.” Carter took up her position on the command riser and turned to her first officer. “SitRep Mr. Donnelly?”

“No problems to report Captain. The IS is present if you would like details.” The commander snapped his fingers and motioned to someone standing behind him.

Major Reese’s eyes widened as he watched Harold Feenyx limp over to the captain’s seat. _Damn.....Ty was right._ The dark gray of the IS‘s bio-suit made it look as if Feenyx had strolled onto the bridge naked, albeit with oddly pigmented skin. Nothing was left to the imagination. John’s lips thinned as he heard the derisive whispers of the bridge crew and a quiet titter of laughter from the helm. To his credit, the tech seemed calm and assured as he greeted his commanding officer. 

Reese couldn’t help admiring Feenyx’s trim figure. He may be slender but he had good musculature.... _he’s a hell of a lot more attractive than everyone else here._ With great effort he pulled his gaze from the tech’s backside to the captain. 

“Good morning Captain Carter, my name is-” 

Without deigning to even look at Feenyx, Josslyn barked out “Open interface!”

Harold’s face went blank; eyes widening as his mind turned inward to the cyber connection he had with the ship. 

John’s mouth fell open. The transformation that came over the older man was eeire. It was as if Feenyx’s personality had been switched off and someone.... _some thing_ else now controlled the man.

When Feenyx spoke, the voice that emerged from his lips was deep and resonant; devoid of emotion.

**_“Voice recognition verified, Captain.”_**

“Status report.”

**_“Weapons at one-hundred percent.....shields at one-hundred percent....life support at one hundred percent...energy reserves at ninety-five percent; solar collectors have been deployed. All systems functioning within normal parameters.”_**

“Acknowledged, close interface.”

Reese frowned as the fragile-looking man staggered backwards when he was released from rapport with the ship. Feenyx took a deep breath, clutching the railing behind him as he collected himself. John had to forcibly refrain from offering the man assistance as he limped to his station. Harold eased himself into the console chair and immediately became engrossed in his computers; fingers flying over the touch screens.

John's eyes flicked from the Specialist to the Captain....he'd never actually seen an IS in rapport; nor the cavalier, almost dismissive treatment of them Evans had said was commonplace. Carter obviously regarded the man as an extension of the vessel; possessing no more significance than a touch terminal or code pad. The rest of the bridge crew seemed to consider it SOP and it rankled the security chief on a deeply personal level. He could see the faint flush on Feenyx’s cheeks and knew the man must be humiliated at the captain’s curt dismissal.

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

Lieutenant Lionel Fusco paused to fasten the closures on his uniform jacket. _It's colder than my ex's sex drive down here._ He grimaced as he continued his patrol in the underbelly. _My own fault though....Lionel, you need to learn to keep your mouth shut._ Fusco snorted in derision at his self-lecture. _Hasn't happened yet though has it?_

Lionel turned down a side corridor and caught sight of the storage containers blocking the passage. He scanned the ID chip on one with his tablet and consulted the ship's manifest. **Crate P-4: Feenyx, H. IS**

Fusco scratched his head. _What's the interfacer's personal baggage doing down here?_ He tapped out a command sequence and brought up Feenyx's berth assignment. _They put the ship's IS in the underbelly? Who the hell did he piss off?_

Lionel stowed his tablet and continued his patrol. He wasn't about to shift someone's personal effects without permission but he made a mental note to inform Major Reese about the situation. Fusco had heard the rumors about interface techs and their _proclivities_ but having been on the receiving end of crap more than a few times himself, Lionel preferred not to make generalizations.

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

Harold Feenyx sighed as he stepped out of the lift. His first duty shift had been filled with one slight after another, culminating in Commander Donnelly verbally kicking him off the bridge when it was done. The IS was now nursing a fierce headache and only wanted to disappear into his quarters, regardless of how cold they were.

Harold had been acutely aware of Major Reese’s presence when the captain refused to acknowledge the IS. Feenyx had been an interfacer long enough not to be embarrassed by his bio-suit but to have the security chief witness him being treated as an object rather than a person was mortifying. Especially in the wake of the respect extended to him by Reese the day before. _It seems as if Carter and Donnelly are cast from the same mold...No matter,_ Harold shook his head. _I have more important things to worry about at present._

He still had his storage containers to deal with and was dreading how long it would take him to sort things out. His cube was big enough for one crate at least; doing double duty as a chest and table. Harold was deciding which of them would work best in this capacity when he noticed someone standing outside his berth.

“IS Feenyx?” 

Harold nodded warily. His visitor was another member of the security team and looked to be of the same cut as the idiots that had accosted him that morning. “Is there a problem, officer?”

The man snapped a respectful salute off and the warmth of his smile actually reached his eyes. “Lieutenant Lionel Fusco, sir. I am on patrol duty in this section and thought you might care for some assistance with your baggage.” Fusco indicated the containers. 

“I’m sure you’ll want to unpack yourself but I can requisition a transport drone to take the crates to the cargo hold when I am on my return circuit.”

Feenyx was taken aback by Fusco’s offer and looked hard for any indication of malice beneath the kindness. The Lieutenant showed no outward signs of deception and Harold had to conclude that the man was sincere.

“That would be appreciated Mr. Fusco. You shouldn’t go to such trouble-”

Lionel smiled again an Feenyx found himself doing so in return. 

“No trouble at all IS Feenyx. I’ve already got a drone cleared for use and I’ll be passing back through this deck in about an hour.” The officer saluted again and continued on his patrol.

Harold stared after the officer, bemused by Fusco’s courtesy. _Well....that was certainly unexpected. How odd that the only polite people I’ve encountered on this ship have been in the section most notorious for tormenting those in my profession._ He shrugged, determined to not look a gift grunt in the mouth. He needed the help and far be it for him to question the source. Feenyx palmed the security pad and let himself into his cube. 

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

NOTES: As I said before, John & Harold will get close in this story faster than usual (but it's an AU so what'cha gonna do?) and things may/will change for our Feenyx soon. Stay tuned everyone!


	5. Course Fluctuations

Title: Rocket Man  
Chapter V: Course Fluctuations  
Rating: T to NC-17  
Pairing: Harold Finch/John Reese  
Tags: slash, M/M, SF, interstellar travel, artificial intelligence  
Warnings: dubcon/noncon (in future chapters), military violence, alien/medical experimentation, verbal/emotional humiliation

NOTE: Just a reminder that Harold’s last name in the flashbacks is still Finch. 

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

 _ **Interface Training Facility (18 years prior)**_

_Finch noticed them right from the start...the silent ones...always on the periphery. Exchanging the odd quiet word among themselves; observing the trainees as they were put through their paces. It was instinctive for Finch to ’see’ things others did not, a skill that made him excel in his chosen career. It was also in Harold’s nature to be cautious and so he watched the watchers, consciously adjusting his performance to keep his aptitude scores right on the median._

_Those in his group who scored highest **and** lowest were taken for special training. None of them returned. From this Finch deduced his survival lay in being as average and therefore 'forgettable', as possible._

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

_**Explorer-Class Vessel ‘Prometheus’ (present)** _

Reese was still brooding over what he'd witnessed on the bridge when Lieutenant Fusco entered the officers' mess. Lionel took a seat opposite his commander and began to make inroads on a steaming bowl of **RMAT** chili. 

John eyed his second with amusement, even as he pushed away the remains of his own meal. "Gonna scald your throat if you're not careful, Lieutenant."

Fusco swallowed his mouthful, pausing in mid-shovel to answer. "I'm frozen through from my disciplinary duty, Major. This is the only thing that will warm me up right now."

Reese snorted. "Underbelly that bad?"

"Worse....I don't know how Feenyx deals with actually _living_ down there." Lionel waved a hand at his own torso. "At least I got natural insulation. He's practically skin and bones."

At the mention of Harold's name, John's interest piqued. "Did you see him?"

Fusco nodded, wiping his mouth. "Real polite, even though he keeps you at arm's length." The lieutenant shook his head at Reese. "Did you know they just tossed his baggage outside his cube?"

"There wasn't a cargo drone to assist him?"

"Nope," Lionel was incredulous. "I offered to bring one back with my on my next sweep and he had the crates unpacked and ready for storage when I returned. He seemed really grateful."

"I'll bet....I don't think he's had many positive encounters with the crew since he came aboard."

Fusco grunted in agreement, spooning up the last of his chili. "Interfacers got their quirks but hey, don't we all? No reason to treat 'em like dirt. I mean, something goes haywire with the ship while we're in uncharted space and the little guy'll be our only hope of fixing things."

"That's Interface Specialist Feenyx, Lieutenant!", Reese countered.

Fusco snapped to attention, his eyes radiating a hint of mischief, although his tone was serious. "Aye Major. Apologies Sir." The Lieutenant regarded his superior officer a moment, his lips twitching.

"I know that look, boss....somethin's got you riled up."

"Leave it Fusco."

"You're worried about Feenyx, aren't you?"

John's incoherent reply could only be described as a growl.

"I am too, Major. I overheard a couple of grunts from engineering taking cuts at him. It's bad enough the man's relegated to cold storage without having to worry about assholes gunning for him too."

Reese sighed. _Well, at least Feenyx has one ally besides myself now. That's something, I suppose._ "There's nothing we can do about his cube assignment."

Fusco thought for a minute. "Maybe there is, Major." The Lieutenant's grin was infectious and John found himself mirroring it as Lionel explained.

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

Harold had set the climate controls as high as they would go and now huddled on his sleeping platform in two thermal blankets as he clutched a nearly boiling mug of tea. Although the cube’s thermal indicator read 29 Celsius, much of the heat was being leached out by the unshielded cargo hold beneath his quarters. _We’ve only just left port and are still in the direct light of this system’s sun._ Feenyx took a long sip of tea. _Once we’re in deep space, the cold will be intolerable._

He wondered if he might be able to cadge bedspace in the infirmary. The Chief Medic Megan Tillman seemed nice enough. She’d been polite and professional during his physical, inquiring as to the severity of his previous injuries and if he required any on-going pain management care. Feenyx had told her what medications he took when necessary and was pleasantly surprised when she suggested an alternative to one of them.

_“Thormalazyne can disrupt functions in your nano-implants during **rapport**.” She handed him a small phial. "This has fewer side effects, so you can take it while on duty if need be." _

_No other medic ever bothered to inform me of that fact... It shows Tillman cares about her patients’ welfare at least._

Harold would consider refuge there as a last resort. Until then, he would deal with things as best he could. The IS sorely wanted to interface with the **_Prometheus_** again before going to sleep but the cold kept disrupting his concentration. Feenyx finished his tea and turned off the lights, wrapping himself up tightly to try and keep his body heat contained.

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

Feenyx stood before the door leading to the security complex. He was still debating whether or not to actually enter when it slid open and Harold found himself face to face with a smiling John Reese.

"Glad you could make it. C'mon in." The Major stepped to one side in obvious invitation and Feenyx had no choice but to cross the threshold or appear unpardonably rude. He nodded and did so.

_Waking to find the Security Chief's message, Harold had spent no small amount of time wondering why Reese wanted to see him. If it had been an emergency, the tech would have been woken up to deal with the crisis. Feenyx was too anxious to eat and as soon as he completed his hygiene cycle, he took the lift straight up to his requested meeting._

Now as Harold followed Reese down the main corridor, he was even more confused. The major appeared relaxed, dressed in BDU coveralls instead of a standard uniform, his hair untidy and looked to have only just showered himself. He led Feenyx into a brightly lit room where the rest of the security personnel were gathered. They all stood up as their commander entered, settling back in response to Reese's quiet "at ease".

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the _**Prometheus'**_ IS, Specialist Feenyx. Introduce yourselves after we eat if you like but right now-" he turned to the man at his side, grinning as he watched Harold struggling to master his surprise "I think breakfast is in order."

Ten minutes later found Harold Feenyx seated in a comfortable chair, hot tea at his elbow and an omelet of far superior quality to the eggs he'd eaten yesterday in front of him. To cap it all, he was warm… _blissfully_ so for the first time since stepping aboard the ship. In spite of still wondering what this was all about, Harold felt himself relaxing into the quiet companionship being extended to him. 

Major Reese, absorbed in his own breakfast, didn't speak but the silence that stretched between them wasn't unpleasant, it merely was. None of the other officers had approached his table but their conversations washed over Feenyx, mixing into a comfortable background. He pulled himself out of his own musings when Lieutenant Fusco's voice cut across the others.

"Fraggit! I just got this chip and it won't play."

"You drop it or something?" Shaw's tone indicated she didn't care either way.

"No….It must have gotten damaged on the trip in from Earth." Lionel sighed, pulling the small cylinder out of his **HRDR**. "It's from Mick. I won't get back to see him for almost a year and he made this _'to keep me from being homesick'_ , he said."

Harold swallowed the last of his tea and nodded to Reese before getting up. 

Curious, the major watched as Feenyx made his way over to Fusco's table. 

"Would you mind if I examined it, Lieutenant?"

Lionel looked up at Feenyx in surprise. “Uh, sure.” He handed over the chip. The tech held it up to his eyes. 

“Magnify ten.” Harold waited as his lenses shifted focus, zooming in on the tiny cluster of optic contacts at the base of the holo-chip. He studied them for a moment and nodded. Pushing the lenses down his nose, he turned back to his own table.

“Major Reese, would you please pass me a lemon wedge and a napkin?”

Intrigued, John opted to bring both to the other table and watched intently as Feenyx dripped a bit of lemon juice on the chip’s contacts. He waited a moment before gently wiping it dry and passing it back to Lionel.

“Try it now Lieutenant.”

Fusco plugged it into his holoreader and the image of a curly-haired, hazel eyed boy appeared. Lionel, his face wreathed in smiles, laughed with delight. 

“It works! Thank you Specialist Feenyx. You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear from my boy.” Fusco wrung Harold’s hand with enthusiasm and getting up, retreated to his quarters to listen to his son’s recording.

Harold flushed, pleased that he’d been able to return a favor to the man. He was a bit overwhelmed by Fusco’s gratitude. It wasn’t something he was accustomed to receiving. 

“I’d say you've made a friend there, Mr. Feenyx....and not just in Lionel.”

Harold turned to see John Reese smiling at him, although why the major was so happy Feenyx didn’t know. He thought the expression suited the security chief though. _His eyes do reflect his feelings very clearly._ He studied the man’s prominent cheekbones, strong chin and mouth, appreciating John's beauty. Aware that Reese was still watching him, Feenyx cleared his throat.

“Normal magnification...” he murmured and his lenses adjusted back to their usual strength. 

“I didn’t do all that much. I’d experienced similar problems with messages myself. The acid in the juice does wonders for cleaning corroded optics.”

“You _did_ though. Lionel misses Michael very much and does his best to avoid taking assignments where dependents aren’t able to accompany him. He signed on to the **_Prometheus_** as a favor to me. Anything that makes this voyage easier on him, _I_ am grateful for. He’s a good soldier and a good man. Thank you Harold.”

Feenyx felt a warmth surge through him that had nothing to do with the climate controls. The camaraderie in Reese’s tone was sincere and when John extended his hand to the tech, Harold found himself taking it without hesitation. Reese’s grip was firm and relaxed. _He’s actually being friendly...not trying to assert his dominance by the strength of his handclasp._ Feenyx swallowed as he felt John’s thumb brush over his own for an instant before the handshake ended.

The major’s expression showed a hint of speculation, as if he were considering Harold’s reaction. The kindness evident there hadn’t dimmed however and Feenyx wished he were more adept at human interactions.

“I know you’re about to go on duty but if you are free when your shift ends, I’d like to speak with you again this afternoon. Would you mind stopping back here on your way down from the bridge?”

Feenyx nodded. “Of course Major. Ah, good day to you...all of you.”

“See you later Harold.”

The tech smiled at Reese and made his way back out to the transport lift.

John watched him go, once more admiring how Feenyx’s bio suit showed off his assets. He found himself hoping that the IS would be amenable to the plan he and Fusco had hatched the previous evening....for more reasons than one. 

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

NOTES: Okay, so like I said Finch is a bit more trusting of John in this AU (apologies as this is obviously a bit OOC but as I said it means we get to the NC-17 stuff sooner). I hope to have another chapter up in a few days as well as the next chapter of 'Eagle & Shrike' which will be one hot, nasty angst-fest so be prepared!

RMAT-reclaimed matter, basically synthesized food.  
HRDR-Anagram for HoloReaDeR. A unit that plays holographic chips (video letters, books, entertainment pieces, etc)


	6. Leaving Orbit

Title: Rocket Man  
Chapter VI: Leaving Orbit  
Rating: T  
Pairing: Harold Finch/John Reese  
Tags: slash, M/M, SF, interstellar travel, artificial intelligence  
Warnings: dubcon/noncon (in future chapters), military violence, alien/medical experimentation, verbal/emotional humiliation

NOTE: Just a reminder that Harold’s last name in the flashbacks is still Finch. 

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

_Warm... **thoroughly** warm from head to toe._ It took Harold Feenyx a good five minutes to realize that his upper body was uncovered; the blankets having gotten pushed down to his hips during sleep. Harold exhaled a sigh of pure bliss. Between his metabolism and the clothing restrictions that came with being an IS, Feenyx had always been cold while in space. 

He indulged in a luxurious stretch, extending one arm to scoop up his lenses from the cubby next to his sleeping platform. Harold gave in to the temptation to lie abed a bit longer. The tech’s eyes roved over his new accommodations as he recalled the circumstances that had led to his being here.

_Feenyx found his thoughts returning to his morning with the security team during his moments of downtime while on the bridge. Admittedly, the food and comfortable environs had been a welcome change to his usual routine but being with people who accepted him as part of their company, woke something in Harold that had been dormant for a very long time._

_So it was that when his shift ended, not even Commander Donnelly’s customary rudeness dampened his anticipation for returning to the security complex. Harold was actually pleased by the First Officer’s parting words._

_**“Now that we are clear of interplanetary traffic, you will be ’on-call’ Feenyx. Do not report to the bridge unless requested.”**_

_Harold had just nodded in acknowledgement and maintained his professional facade until the lift doors closed._

_’Thank the Ancestors that’s over. Now I’ll have time for my own research and perhaps.....’ Feenyx recalled Major Reese’s conversation from the morning; appreciating again the man’s looks and good humor. Harold would be the first to admit his awkwardness in dealing with his own species but even he could sense the major’s interest._

_‘I haven’t been close to anyone since....since Nathan.’_

_Harold sighed. Perhaps it would be best to let matters lie. He **could** be misreading the situation after all and sparing himself the humiliation of mistaking kindness for attraction could only be for the best._

 _His surprise at being asked to share John Reese’s evening meal had been compounded by the major showing him two empty residences afterwards._

_**“We’re on a short crew for this voyage, Specialist Feenyx.”** Reese told him as they toured the first space._

_**“If either of these cubes suit you, you’re most welcome to change quarters. That is if being surrounded by unruly jarheads won’t disturb you too much. The sound dampening panels in this complex are the best, I assure you.”** John joked, deliberately attempting to put his visitor at ease._

_Slack-jawed, Harold had stared at the security chief a full sixty seconds before snapping his teeth shut. **“I.....well....the captain-”**_

_**“Trusts me to do my job. A large part of which is maintaining the safety and well-being of all souls on board. Not to mention ensuring efficient operating conditions when taking into consideration any emergency situations that might arise.”**_

_Harold, now looking over the second cube and very much liking what he saw, nodded at this logic. **“My belongings-”**_

_**“Lieutenant Fusco has volunteered his services in transporting your crates. Between you and me Feenyx, I haven’t seen Lionel this happy in ages. Besides,”** he indicated the cube next door, **“I’m looking forward to the company.”**_

_Harold felt his cheeks flush at the warmth in Reese’s voice. Quite to his own bemusement, the IS found himself agreeing to the move and within an hour, stood in the central living space of his new home. Fusco grinned away Feenyx’s thanks and left him to his privacy._

Harold got up and slipping into a lounging robe, examined the _**RMAT**_ station. He was pleased to see the variety of food and beverage options now available to him and chose his usual green tea. Feenyx eased down onto the wall bench, sipping his drink and losing himself in the beauty of the starscape stretching out before his eyes. He’d never had a berth that included a viewport before....much less the large transplex panel he was currently enjoying.

Feenyx stood up, wincing as his damaged hip took the opportunity to remind him of its existence. He’d not followed his stretching regimen since boarding the _**Prometheus**_ and if he didn’t resume it soon, he would begin to pay the price for his inactivity. _At least my new duty status will allow me the time to do so. I wonder-_

Harold accessed the ship’s schematic on his touch pad, searching until... _ah, there it is and the security complex has a private entrance!_ The IS consulted the posted hours and logged in his request for time. It was confirmed almost immediately and he smiled. Of all the fitness options the ship offered, this was his personal favorite. Feenyx traded robe for the specialized footgear he would require and exited his quarters. A new morning _had_ dawned.....in every good sense of the term.

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

“Hey Feenyx, settling in alright?”

Harold stopped short at the sight of John Reese in the changing area. “Ah...good morning, Major. Everything is just fine, thank you.”

John watched him for a moment, brows creasing as he picked up the other man’s unease. “Did you reserve the chamber? Nevermind, of course you did.” Reese swore quietly.

“I can return later, Major-”

“No....no don’t leave. So few of the crew actually use this facility that I don’t even think about it.” Catching the tech’s puzzled expression, Reese offered a rueful grimace by way of apology. 

“The security team has open access to the chamber at all times. We normally do check the schedule but no-one ever has it this early in the day so I just assumed....bad idea on my part.”

He turned back to his locker. “I’ll leave you to it. I can run anytime.”

“Oh....which track?”

John smiled. “The upper one, always. Even when I’m here alone, I don’t like dodging beads of my own sweat. The enviro-systems pull it straight in.”

Harold thought for a moment. _If he uses the top loop then he won’t be paying attention to me._ “I prefer the middle levels myself, Major Reese. I don’t mind sharing time, if you’re amenable.”

“Fine with me and it’s John. We’re neighbors now, after all.” Reese’s smile expanded into a full-blown grin. He gestured for Feenyx to precede him and they entered the staging lock.

“You used to zero?”

“Very much so. I never understood why more people don’t take advantage of its beneficial properties.”

“Same here.” He gestured to their magnetic shoes. “I dial just enough resistance to feel like I’m on earth and still get better exercise than I do planetside.”

Reese faced the shimmering forcefield, eyeing the empty dome before him. He looked over his shoulder. “Have a good workout Harold.”

“Thank you John, you too.”

Feenyx watched as the security chief took a breath then jumped upward through the forcefield. Harold admired the confident movements of the other man as Reese propelled himself through the zero gravity chamber. Feenyx admitted the dark blue _synth-skin_ suit John wore only enhanced the view. He tore his eyes away and swallowed as the uncomfortable thought hit Harold that this was the way others looked at him. 

Harold set the resistance level on his shoes and leaned forward, pushing off on his good leg after most of his body passed through the forcefield. All at once he forgot about his misgivings, the skewed biases of his shipmates, even the man drifting above him. All that mattered now was that right here, in this place he was _free_.

John Reese had just touched down on the circular track. It ran parallel to the floor, following the circumference of the chamber's walls and afforded a wonderful view outside thanks to the dome’s transplex cap. In the guise of kneeling down to check the fit of his shoes, John sneaked a glance down at Feenyx and found himself transfixed at the sight.

The IS’s movements were fluid and graceful. Feenyx didn’t navigate zeroG, he’d become part of it. His hesitation, his _awkwardness_ had vanished and John could not help but think of a bird riding the winds. A falcon...lithe, streamlined and owning the air it soared through. Then Reese noticed Feenyx’s face.

Harold’s eyes were closed. The lines of pain that bracketed his eyes and mouth had been smoothed away. His carefully cultivated mask of neutrality had slipped to reveal an expression of serene joy. John’s breath caught in his throat as Harold executed a sideways roll and tucked his knees up to his chest. _He’s not hurting anymore. Without gravity exerting pressure on his joints, he can move freely._

Reese blinked to clear his eyes. He experienced his share of strains and injuries, all his officers did...it came with the job but to have to live with such a level of incapacity on a daily basis? He’d known from the moment they’d met that Harold Feenyx was an exceptional man and John was humbled by the knowledge that the interfacer possessed the strongest will of anyone Reese had yet to meet.

He stood up, forcing himself to breathe deeply and focus on his own workout. It wouldn’t do for Feenyx to look up and find John staring at him. Reese started to run, concentrating on the placement of his feet along the track. If his mind’s eye still presented to him images of _his_ Feenyx in flight, then it was no-one’s business but his own.

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

NOTES: Sorry no zeroG sex but there will be some snuggling coming very soon. Also a bit of H/C and, because nothing is ever easy for our boys in my stories, lots a' angst!


	7. First Contacts

Title: Rocket Man  
Chapter VII: First Contacts  
Rating: M  
Pairing: Harold Finch/John Reese  
Tags: slash, M/M, SF, interstellar travel, artificial intelligence  
Warnings: dubcon/noncon (in future chapters), military violence, alien/medical experimentation, verbal/emotional humiliation  
 **rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

_Feenyx's days settled into a pleasant routine. Most of the crew took note of the security team's treatment of the IS and the few times Harold had been called to interface, he was treated with a higher degree of respect than was the norm._

 _He also found himself spending increasing amounts of his downtime with Major Reese. The security chief proved to be a lively conversationalist; with a keen interest in history and alien cultures. Harold was enthralled with John's stories about the many worlds he had visited while on active service. Reese in return was grateful for an audience which actually wanted to hear them. After a month, Feenyx seemed to be more relaxed in his company. John felt that the time was right to try and learn more about his new friend._

Feenyx joined Reese in his quarters for dinner that night. John spent the meal talking about his time in basic training and his first assignments as a raw recruit; peppering the narrative with more than a few stories at his own expense. Harold was an appreciative audience, commiserating with the then twenty year-old soldier's youthful indiscretions. 

"Had you always wanted to join the military?"

Reese shrugged. "My parents were back-water colonists; not many opportunities came our way. When Alliance forces recruiters visited our settlement, I listened to what they had to offer. Seemed like a good fit at the time and I can't say I've suffered too much from it. Let me send credits home anyway."

John smiled at his friend. "What about you? I guess with your knack for computers becoming an IS was a no-brainer."

Feenyx grew still, his eyes dropping to the mug of tea in his hands. The major sensed his discomfort at once. 

"Harold?" John's voice was quiet. "Hell.....I'm sorry. Just forget I asked al-"

"Being an interfacer isn't a _choice_ , John." Keeping his gaze fixed on his lap, Feenyx related with calm detachment most of the circumstances that led to his induction into the training center.

Reese's lips thinned, his anger growing as Harold recounted the abuses he and his fellow trainees had endured. At last the tech stopped speaking and John realized he wanted nothing more than to find the bastards that had done those things to Feenyx and make them pay.

"I can't begin to imagine what you've been through Harold...it's nothing less than legalized slavery!"

The empathy in the security chief's voice brought a lump to Feenyx's throat. _No-one has ever thought of how I felt...not even Nathan._ "I had a life, John." He whispered. "A career I loved. The last thing I would have imagined was that I'd manifest _talents_."

He looked up at last, his pale eyes haunted by the visions of his past. "I was respected; acclaimed as an innovator in my field. Now I'm just a commodity...a _freak_." Feenyx waved a derogatory hand towards the door. 

“Most people consider me to be little more than a touchpad with vox capabilities.”

John rose, moving over to the lounger and settling in beside the older man. “I see you Harold... _all_ of you. Your mind, your heart and your humor.” He placed his hands on Feenyx’s shoulders, turning him so he could look Harold in the eye.

“I see everything about you and I like the man I see very much.” Reese leaned in and brushed his lips against Harold’s cheek, smiling at Feenyx’s squeak of surprise.

_“John....”_ Harold turned his head just enough so that their mouths connected and found himself on the receiving end of a very interested kiss. He returned it with an enthusiasm he’d never imagined he was capable of. Reese was tempering his obvious desire with a reverent tenderness that was entirely new to Feenyx. John ‘s tongue was gentle as it traced his lips, asking rather than demanding. 

Harold opened his mouth, gladly taking Reese in and reveling in his own explorations. John’s sigh of pleasure sent a thrum of arousal down the tech’s spine. Feenyx leaned in and was pleased in turn when he felt Reese’s arms enfolding him.

John trailed kisses along Harold's jaw to his ear, breathing in Feenyx's scent and realizing just how much he wanted this man. "Want to touch you.... _please!_ "

"Yes...."

Reese rumbled happily, mouthing at Harold's neck as his hands roved over Feenyx's chest. The SynthSkin suit was almost imperceptible to John's touch as his fingers sought out the tech's nipples. 

"Oh... _oh!_ " Harold was unprepared for the rush of sensation flooding through him. Nathan had always been focused on intercourse and while the eccentric head of **IFT** took time to prepare Harold for such intimacies, Feenyx never felt so completely in thrall to a partner until now.

Harold was conscious of Reese easing him backwards into the cushions; his lean frame stretching out beside Feenyx as John continued to tease him. He was acutely aware of his erection brushing Reese's thigh, the biosuit doing nothing to hide his arousal. 

The major claimed one of the throbbing nodes with his mouth, suckling hard as his free hand stroked down Feenyx's belly to cup his groin. Harold closed his eyes, arching his hips to thrust into John's fingers. He gasped, crying out as a burning pain lanced through his head.

Reese felt the tech's body go rigid and sat up. "Harold? Are you-"

Feenyx began to tremble, his limbs jerking uncontrollably as he fell into a seizure.

_"Shit!"_ John placed a hand in the middle of Feenyx's chest and activated his communicator. "Emergency transfer directly to the infirmary, have Medic Tillman standing by!"

_"Affirmative Major Reese."_

John felt the tingle of the transmat beam and prayed as his quarters vanished from view. 

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

_**Prometheus** infirmary_

"What the _**hell**_ happened, Major?!" Tillman pressed a hypospray against Feenyx's neck; watching him carefully as the fast acting sedative calmed the tech's muscle spasms.

"I don't know, doc! One minute we were-" Reese broke off, a flush creeping up his neck.

"Were you sexually intimate?"

"I-uh...we didn't,"

"Did you arouse him? Orally? With your hands?" The medic's glare could have melted a hole through the ship's hull.

"Yes..." John admitted quietly.

"Fragging soldiers!" Meg exploded, "You're _idiots!_ Every one of you!" 

The medic began stripping the tech out of his biosuit. 

“Inundating the suit’s biosensors with that kind of stimulation causes a feedback loop, kicking them into overload. You’re lucky you didn’t kill Feenyx, cripple the ship or _**both**_.”

John looked away as Tillman pulled the SynthSkin garment down to the older man’s hips; hissing in anger at the spotting of red welts covering Feenyx’s chest and abdomen. Meg spat a string of profanity that would have made a T’kathian flinch and extended a finger towards the infirmary doors.

“Get out, Major....One of us has to fix this!”

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

_**Prometheus** infirmary, two hours later_

_ow.....OW..... **OW!**_

Harold Feenyx slowly returned to consciousness with the sensation that a star had just gone supernova inside his cranium. The pain was exquisite and relentless enough to make Harold wish he had died.

He blinked, grateful for the low light level in....wherever he was. Feenyx could hear faint beeps and clicks coming from hidden machinery. The space was large enough for Harold to pick up a low-grade echo at every sound. The faint odor of disinfectant confirmed his suspicions that he was in fact in the infirmary. _What the hell happened to me? I was-oh....._

The tech must have groaned aloud for he heard the soft scrape of a chair.

“Harold....you awake?” Aware of the storm that must be raging in his friend’s skull, Reese kept his voice at a whisper. 

“John?”

“I’m here.” Warm fingers captured his hand and squeezed with gentle reassurance. “Harold, I’m so sorry.”

“M-my fault...” the tech croaked out. “Should have realized what would happen. I was just-” Feenyx broke off, licking his lips and looking away in embarrassment.

“No, I’m the one who messed up. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

“Didn’t.” Harold risked a glance up at Reese only to be taken aback by the look of guilt on the major’s face. “It’s alright John. I just need to rest.”

“I’ll be here if you need anything.” Reese lifted Feenyx’s hand to his lips, lightly brushing his lips over the lax knuckles.

In spite of his pain, Harold chuckled. “You make quite an impression, Major.” He laughed again seeing John flush in chagrin. Feenyx winced as the movement made his skull twinge again.

“Go to sleep Harold. I’ll stay right here.”

“Your shift-”

“Fusco’s got it and no, I didn’t tell anyone what happened.”

The tech sighed in relief, he was already embarrassed enough. Feenyx closed his eyes and felt himself drifting back into sleep. John’s fingers stroked his forehead and Harold smiled at the soothing touch before giving in to oblivion.

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

NOTES: Poor Harold. Of course his first make out session with John would put him in the hospital but fear not ‘Rocket Man’ fans, real Rinch smut is coming soon (this time without biosuit interference).


	8. Convergence

Title: Rocket Man  
Chapter VIII: Convergence  
Rating: NC-17 (explicit sexual content)  
Pairing: Harold Finch/John Reese  
Tags: slash, M/M, SF, interstellar travel, artificial intelligence  
Warnings: dubcon/noncon (in future chapters), military violence, alien/medical experimentation, verbal/emotional humiliation

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

_Meg Tillman remained silent, pinning the hapless Interfacer with her patented 'don't even try to explain yourself' stare. At last she reached out, grasping Feenyx's wrist in assertive fingers. Turning his hand over, the medic slapped a canister into Harold's palm._

_"Come back when you need more of this, Specialist Feenyx and for the sake of my sanity, in the future **take...off...your...suit.** " She waited until Harold nodded in meek assent, then sighed; jerking her chin towards the infirmary doors. _

_"Go on, I've got people who are actually sick to look after."_

_Feenyx removed himself from the doctor's presence with alacrity, only relaxing when he'd made it safely to the lift. John had stayed with him until just before his release; having been called into a meeting with the captain. Harold prayed with fervent hope it wasn't about his 'illness' and just wanted to get back to his quarters as soon as possible._

_Although he appreciated Major Reese's kindness and discretion, Harold was mortified at the thought of actually facing the man again. To have his first intimate physical encounter in five years end with Harold passing out was almost too much to bear. With a bit of luck, Feenyx might be able to avoid John for a few days at least....enough time for Harold to hopefully regain his composure._

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

Feenyx lay down on his sleeping platform, determined to focus his concentration. It had been more than a week since Harold put himself into _rapport_ and the IS keenly felt the need to re-connect with the ship. Contact with the _**Prometheus**_ would help center him again. He slowed his breathing; concentrating on the simple rhythms of inhale and exhale, until he at last slipped into the light trance that initiated interface.

_****Feenyx registered the singularity that was the 'heart' of the Prometheus' processor core; the ship's consciousness for lack of a better term. Harold felt the tingle along his virtual self that indicated he was being scanned. The sensation dissipated and the tech was pulled into the operating nexus of the great ship. Although there was no reason for him to ever be denied such access, Feenyx made a point to convey gratitude for being granted it.**_

_**Harold’s protocol at this point varied. Sometimes, he wandered freely within the OS, checking the status of different areas and correcting any issues he might discover. Occasionally, the Prometheus would ’guide’ the IS to a particular portion of its system, revealing either an as yet unexplored portion of its programming or a glitch in its operations.** _

_**Such was the case now, Feenyx found himself moving along a network of electronic connections and routes until he was ’pushed’ into a security uplink node. Images formed in his mind and Harold concentrated until they sharpened into a clear picture.** _

_**Harold was looking at a live feed from the cam in Major Reese’s quarters. The man in question was seated on the lounge in the main living space. John’s face was drawn; his sadness almost palpable. Reese raised his head, turning his eyes to look at the far wall; the one that backed up against Harold’s own cube and Feenyx realized that John continued to blame himself for what had happened.** _

_**The tech’s thoughts were interrupted by an interrogatory pulse from the ship:**_ query....Reese, John....security clearance Beta 4-7-9-9. Interface status to Admin....query

_**Had the Prometheus really just asked Harold what Reese meant to him? Feenyx paused for a moment. How could he explain human concepts like friendship and.....affection to a machine? Harold thought simplicity would be best and tried to formulate the most logical and concise definition he could.**_

reply....Reese, John...Interface security clearance status to Admin: Alpha Prime 1.

_**With this command code, Feenyx updated the Prometheus' database with the fact that John Reese was the one person in the entire crew he trusted most. He registered the series of energy pulses that meant the Prometheus was processing the information he’d relayed and waited patiently.**_

acknowledged...terminating interface.

_**Harold felt himself being pushed back out of the ship’s OS.****_

Feenyx’s eyes fluttered open as he regained consciousness. Excitement welled up in his chest. His creation had understood what he ‘told’ it and had basically gone off to 'think' about things. The _**Prometheus**_ was expanding beyond its projected parameters daily. _It is closer to a true artificial life form than even I hoped it would be._

Harold’s brain itched to further explore this new facet of the ship’s systems but instinctively knew that more attempts on his part to interface at present would be unsuccessful. Recalling what he’d ‘seen’ on the vid link, his thoughts turned to John Reese. The major’s obvious unhappiness troubled Feenyx. Harold had just told his creation that he trusted John implicitly, now it was time to let Reese know as well.

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

_"Major, that was the single-most damnfool move you've ever made in your entire career!"_

_The captain of the **Prometheus** paced the length of the office, her fury at the security chief all but singeing the man with its intensity. John Reese stood at rigid attention, eyes forward as he silently bore the brunt of Carter's anger. No other course of action was open to him. He deserved it; the verbal dressing down, the formal report now coloring his service record, all of it. _

_The fallout from his lapse in judgment had been well and truly earned, yet was nothing compared to Reese's self-inflicted burden of guilt. Thanks to his selfish indulgence of his own desires, John had come very close to causing Feenyx's death._

_"John, if you really have to scratch an itch that bad, there's plenty of opportunity for you to do so." Carter's expression was a mingle of exasperation and amusement._

_"Whether you realize it or not Major, a good three-quarters of this crew would bend over for you at the drop of a hat. Get it out of your system, get your head out of your ass and get back to doing the job I need you to! Dismissed!"_

_"Aye Sir." John saluted and exited the cube. Josslyn Carter dropped into her desk chair with an exaggerated sigh. Reese had always had a thing for studious, introverted men and the captain knew that this wouldn't be the end of his interest in Feenyx. She hoped for both their sakes that, between the pair of them, good sense would prevail._

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

Brooding in his cube was perhaps not the best way to deal with his current situation, Reese mused but it suited his mood admirably. In any case it wasn't helping much. What John wanted was to go to Harold and beg forgiveness. Expecting that Feenyx would accept it was almost too much to hope for but he wanted to try. _Sure you do....that's why you're sitting in the dark alone, staring at the wall. You coward. You'd rather stay here and stew than risk Feenyx telling you to take an unsuited walk out the airlock._

John sighed, rubbing his forehead along his shoulder. Carter's words made his stomach clench in shame. _Getting my rocks off isn't what this is about!_ Almost from their first meeting, the major had felt drawn to the quiet, self-contained interface tech. Watching Feenyx open up, like a hermit crab slowly emerging from its shell; sharing his company and friendship had touched Reese deeply. Yes, he was physically attracted to the man and... _Harold obviously feels the same. Why did I have to go and screw everything up!_

It wasn't until the second chime that John realized someone was at the door. Reluctantly, he pulled himself up off the lounger and palmed the locking plate in irritation.

"I'm only on suspension for three days Lionel, surely you can cope...oh!"

Reese stepped back in surprise and Feenyx took the opportunity to slip inside the major's quarters. The door sealed behind him and the two men stood staring at each other in silence.

John recovered first. "Um....Harold, come in." He gestured to the lounger and the tech limped over to settle gratefully onto the padded seat. Reese studied the older man, scratching his cheek to cover his discomfort. 

"Look.....I'm sorry Harold. I-"

"John, come sit down." Feenyx waited with infinite patience while the major hesitated. At last Reese joined him and Harold held up a hand, indicating he was to listen.

"I don't blame you John. What happened was an accident, nothing more. I'm fine. I'm just sorry that you faced disciplinary action as a result."

"It _was_ my fault Harold. The captain had every right to call me on it. I could have killed you."

Reese stopped speaking as Feenyx took his hands. John stared down at his lap, surprised that Harold would reach out to him at all. 

"I'm not sorry for what we did, John. I regret we didn't get the chance to go further."

John's head snapped up, his eyes dark with confusion. "You mean-"

Feenyx's smile was hesitant but his pale gaze warmed the security chief to his core. "I mean that I would like to try again."

Reese slid to his knees, wrapping his arms around the tech's lean waist. "I meant everything I said, Harold." He pressed his face against Feenyx's thigh.

_"John....."_ Harold was astounded. This strong, accomplished soldier was folded over his lap like a small child seeking reassurance. He cupped the back of Reese's head, his fingers burying themselves in the close-cropped black hair. Greatly daring Feenyx leaned down and pressed a kiss to John's scalp; feeling the resulting tremor that moved through Reese's body.

"What do you want, John?"

"To be with you, however you want me to...."

Feenyx took Reese's hand in his and stood up, leading the major out of his quarters and into Harold's own. He sat down on the corner of his sleeping platform, John at his side.

"I'd like it if you stayed here tonight."

"You should take your biosuit off I guess...that is-" Feenyx's chuckle stopped him in mid-sentence. 

The tech held up an arm and, pushing back the sleeve of his tunic, revealed bare skin beneath it. A narrow band encircled his wrist. "I already have. Medic Tillman and I discussed... _options_ and she brought this to my attention"; he nodded to the bracelet.

"It's a biosensor cuff. It allows me to maintain a minimal link to the ship, without compromising my system."

"Then you can?"

Harold smiled again, his cheeks flushing. "Yes, and I very much would like to."

Reese got to his feet and pulled the loose shirt over his head, tossing it to one side. The SynthSkin half-tank undergarment, unlike the major's workout gear, had no modesty panels. Every plane and valley of his pectorals was clearly delineated. Harold swallowed, his eyes roving over the exposed flesh and felt his own desire well up as John's nipples began to tighten underneath the tech's intense scrutiny.

John's hands slid down his sides to the drawstring on his lounging pants. With a quick tug they went slack around his hips, slithering down his thighs to pool around his ankles. He stepped out of them and spread his legs, smirking as he posed for his soon to be lover. 

If John's top was revealing, the SynthSkin briefs were nothing less than obscene. Reese's erection made his interest in Harold quite obvious. Feenyx felt his own cock twitch in response. 

John let one hand brush over his shaft, stroking himself lightly and bit his lip. "Harold....I want you to take the rest off...touch me. Please?"

Feenyx rose and reaching out, ran gentle fingers over Reese's left shoulder then down to the hem of the top. The fabric went limp, falling open to reveal a muscular chest. Harold traced his fingers along John's right shoulder and the tank top slipped to the floor. 

Reese kept his arms at his sides, his eyes on Harold's face as the tech captured John's nipples, working them between his thumbs and forefingers. The major hissed, arching his hips as jolts of pleasure spiked through him. Heat pooled in his belly; his cock stiffening even more. Feenyx leaned in and mouthed the hollow above the chief's breastbone.

_"Harold,"_ the chief's voice was rough with need and yet he waited, letting Feenyx dictate the pace. John closed his eyes as the tech kissed his way up Reese's neck until claiming his mouth at last. Unable to hold back, John raised his hands to Feenyx's shoulders, fingers skating over Harold's collarbones to rub his neck.

The IS stiffened, pulling back slightly and John let go at once. 

"Harold, what's wrong? I'm sorry-" Reese stopped as Feenyx turned away, shaking his head. 

"It's not you John." He took a deep breath, blowing out in exasperation. "I'm sorry. You know....you know I was injured in the past." Harold indicated his bad leg.

"Damn-it, I hurt you!"

"No, you didn't." Harold met the chief's eyes and John was surprised to see a trace of fear behind them. "I have scars John. They're severe and....not pleasant to look at."

Reese closed the distance between them, pulling Harold in to rest against his chest. John kissed along the shell of his ear, secretly pleased at the tech's intake of breath. "Having them means you're a survivor....that you're strong, a fighter. And nothing about you is ugly, Harold. Nothing could be."

He released Feenyx and took a step backward. "I've got my own share of marks too." He turned his back and heard the other man's quiet _ooh_. Reese knew what his back looked like; had seen the jagged criss-cross of ridges that the D'siMah warrior he'd fought with gifted him before his platoon mates had saved him. John waited with patience until at last he felt the gentle brush of Harold's fingers over his shoulders. Feenyx mapped each gnarled welt, every puckered crease as if he were memorizing a chronology of John's military service.

"You earned yours by defending others. Mine were thanks to the hubris of arrogance." Feenyx's hands encircled John's waist; the tech hugging him close from behind, nuzzling into Reese's shoulder-blade.

John covered Harold's hands with his own. "We both have to live with them though, don't we?"

"Yes."

"I've done things in my life Harold that I'm not proud of. Followed orders that wound up costing lives which should never have been put at risk. I'm in no position to judge anyone.....wouldn't do that to you anyway." 

Reese felt the tech step away and closed his eyes again, praying Feenyx wouldn’t ask him to leave. His head snapped up when he detected the quiet rustling of cloth hitting the floor. After a moment, John felt a tentative touch on his arm.

“Maybe we can help each other then.”

John turned to see Feenyx, naked save for his briefs, his right leg twisted slightly inward and trembling. Harold pulled his head up, his expression one of stoic neutrality; as if expecting the major's pity or ridicule. 

_My God, he's got more courage than anyone..._ Reese knelt and buried his face in the wonderful silvery-brown hair covering Harold’s chest and stomach. He nibbled on the strands, humming in pleasure...the warm fuzziness a unique contrast to his own smooth skin.

Feenyx froze at the major's unexpected actions then tugged at John’s hair; the tech’s belly jiggling as he was startled into laughter. “Stop that....you’re tickling.” 

The chief retaliated by blowing a raspberry against Harold’s stomach, which only made Feenyx laugh harder.

Reese stroked the sides of Harold’s SynthSkin briefs, breaking the seal and taking the tech’s penis in his mouth before the garment reached Feenyx’s ankles. He concentrated on licking Harold’s crown; humming again as he felt the older man’s cock begin to fill.

Harold bit his lip, fighting to keep from thrusting himself further between John’s lips. He felt the teasing warmth of John’s tongue over his slit as his foreskin retracted. Heat flooded his face and Feenyx knew he must be beet red. 

_“Oh....John!”_

Not once in his life had Reese backed down from a challenge. He used every bit of knowledge gleaned from the casual encounters of his past to arouse his partner; working his jaw even as he sucked to bring Harold off. Feeling the tech’s knees start to buckle, John wrapped his arms around Feenyx’s hips to support his weight.

Harold groaned, his brain grinding to a halt as his desperation grew. John slipped his tongue underneath Feenyx's crown, pressing it against his palate.

_"Shit!"_ Feenyx felt his belly clench and slammed his hips forward as he climaxed.

Reese swallowed, taking everything Harold gave him. The tech gabbled out a string of nonsense; John thought he could pick out the odd Latin word mixed in with the unintelligible syllables. He let Feenyx slip from his jaws, gently lapping the tech's softened cock clean before sitting back on his heels.

Harold's hands had John's shoulders in a death grip, his body slumping forward as he sucked in great breaths of air. He swallowed, leaning down to press his forehead against Reese's, allowing the major to support his weight until he could get his strength back.

"John.....John......"

Reese stood, gathering Feenyx up in his arms and depositing him on the sleeping platform. He untangled the briefs from around Harold's ankles, removed his own, then lay down at his side. He kissed the tech's temple and jaw, reveling in the smile that greeted his actions. 

"You okay?"

"Fine....good, yes." Harold's slurred voice indicated he still hadn't returned to his normal plane of thought. 

John cuddled him close and Feenyx felt the major's still prominent erection pressing into his hip. He struggled to sit up. 

"John, you haven't? I'm sorry-"

"Shhhh...s'alright." Reese ran his hands soothingly over the tech's chest and belly until he relaxed again. "Want to touch you, _inside_ you."

Harold sucked in a breath. _It's been five years, I don't know if-_ He stopped, taking in the wonderful sensations of being held by the taller man. John Reese's touch was reverent, full of caring and tenderness. _He won't hurt me and...._ and the truth of the matter was that the thought of John's fingers working him open was enough to set his heart thumping anew.

“Please.” one word; barely audible, that was both permission and plea.

“Be right back, I just need-”

“Shelf by your head.”

“What?” John reached out and closed his fingers around a canister. He grinned at the IS. “Quite the space-scout, you are.”

Harold blushed. “Meg Tillman gave it to me yesterday before I left the infirmary.”

John leaned in to kiss Feenyx again. “Remind me to send the doc a thank you note.”

Harold chuffed, his indignation transmuting into a gasp of surprise when he felt Reese roll him onto his good side and slip a well-lubricated hand between his buttocks. John wrapped his other arm around Feenyx’s waist, pulling him snugly back against the major’s chest.

Harold bent his bad leg, slipping his arm behind his knee to give John easier access to him. He was rewarded with kisses to his neck and shoulders as Reese rubbed a finger over his opening. The double-attack of sensations caused Feenyx to wriggle in the major’s grasp. John merely tightened his grip, holding the smaller man still as his finger traced circles over the sensitive ring of muscle.

_“John....ahhh....”_

Harold’s body began to tingle, he’d forgotten how much he enjoyed finger-play and damned if John Reese wasn’t a master at it. He felt his sphincter relaxing in response to the major’s expert touch. John slipped in to his first knuckle, stroking the sensitive walls with a teasing delicacy. 

“So warm, Harold. Beautiful.” Reese pulled out and pressed back in, working his finger in deeper as he twisted it from side to side. 

To his great astonishment, Harold felt his cock stiffening again. A quiet chuckle sounded in his ear as warm lips nuzzled his sideburns. Of course John would notice.

“Like it Harold?” Reese’s finger retreated again, this time to be joined by a second digit as he once more explored Feenyx’s depths.

“Yesssss.” Harold was panting now, pushing back with his hips to try and take John deeper. 

“Mmmm-mmmm-mmmm. Patience, my bright Feenyx.”

“John...... _please!_ ”

Reese reached deeper, working his fingers as if they were peddling an ancient earth bicycle; grinning at Harold’s wail of need.

“I’ve got you. Let yourself fly Harold.” John pushed a little more until....

“Oh..... _oh God!!”_ Feenyx threw his head back against the security chief’s shoulder as John stroked his prostate. “I can’t....damn it John!”

“Yes you can. I _know_ you can.”

Harold’s body jerked as Reese tickled the sensitive bundle of tissue at the base of his penis. He was rock hard again, precum oozing from his slit; slicking his groin and belly.

“Look at you Harold.” The approving purr in John’s voice sent pleasant shivers down Feenyx’s spine. “So ready, so hot; panting for me.” His fingers pressed more firmly against the tech’s gland and Harold sobbed in desperation.

“Please let me come....John, please!!”

“I’m the only one who gets to see you like this; shining, beautiful and passionate as the creature you’re named for.” He captured the tech’s earlobe in his teeth, biting down even as his fingers stroked Harold’s prostate hard.

Feenyx cried out, his back bowing in Reese’s grip as he ejaculated. John’s hand slipped down to milk Harold’s shaft as it pulsed again and a third time.

Reese eased his fingers out of Harold, taking his time as the tech’s muscles clenched around John’s hand in quivering aftershocks. He pressed kisses to Feenyx’s neck and hair, murmuring words of praise to the now limp man. John shifted his hips, uncomfortably aware of the unsatisfied throbbing of his own cock. He gently rolled Harold onto his back and straddled the tech’s pelvis.

“Look at me Harold.” John took himself in hand and slowly stroked a hand up and down his shaft, squeezing from base to head.

Feenyx focused on the magnificent sight of this Greek god come to life who had so thoroughly sated him twice over.

“John....” The reverence in Harold’s voice went straight to Reese’s cock and he sped up his caresses, biting his lip as he thrusted into his own hand.

“Want to do so much....with _you_....Harold.”

Feenyx reached up, stroking the muscular thighs that cradled his body, feeling Reese’s skin tremble beneath his fingers. _I’m doing this to him._ The realization shook Harold to his core. John’s eyes were fever bright, pupils blown with lust and a possessiveness that made Feenyx shiver in pleasure.

“Mine, Harold.”

“Yes.”

“Mmmph, _Harold!_ ” John climaxed, stripes of wet heat painting Feenyx’s chest and belly. Harold reveled in the feeling of being so thoroughly claimed.

Reese gasped, falling forward over Harold; the major’s strong arms taking most of his weight. He touched his forehead to Feenyx’s, rubbing his nose alongside Harold’s and kissing him with proprietary fierceness.

Neither man spoke; simply maintaining the closeness of their bodies as their breathing slowed and at last, synched. John settled behind Feenyx, once again spooning the other man in a close embrace.

For once, Harold’s fastidious nature ignored the slight discomfort of drying semen on body and sheets. He reached down to pull the thermal blanket over their entwined forms and closing his eyes drifted off into sleep. John followed him a heartbeat later. 

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

NOTES: Sweet gods of yaoi on a pogo-stick!! This chapter nearly killed me. Real life has thrown me a couple of curveballs the past few days and when I sat down to bang this out my well-spring of Rinch smut had dried up....nothing, zilch, nada. I apologize profusely for this delay since I really wanted to get the boys together before the crap-storm descends upon them....Ooops! Oh dear, I’ve said too much (gives best Scar impersonation).

After three days of staring at my keyboard going "where has all my Rinch pron gone?!", I finally finished it today. Anyway, thanks to everyone for their patience and I hope I got the smut-stream flowing properly again. At least this one wound up being a long one!


	9. Incoming Message

Title: Rocket Man  
Chapter IX: Incoming Message  
Rating: M  
Pairing: Harold Finch/John Reese  
Tags: slash, M/M, SF, interstellar travel, artificial intelligence  
Warnings: dubcon/noncon (in future chapters), military violence, alien/medical experimentation, verbal/emotional humiliation

NOTE: This chapter picks up exactly where chapter 8 ends. Sweet fluff and surprises.

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

_“Mine, Harold.”_

_“Yes.”_

_Reese gasped, falling forward over Feenyx; the major’s strong arms taking most of his weight. He touched his forehead to Harold’s, rubbing his nose alongside the other man's and kissing him with proprietary fierceness. John settled behind Feenyx, once again spooning him in a close embrace._

_Harold reached down to pull the thermal blanket over their entwined forms and closing his eyes drifted off into sleep. Reese followed him a heartbeat later._

The security cam on Major Reese's desk terminal switched off automatically. Deep in the _**Prometheus'**_ network, the ship replayed the interaction between its Admin and John Reese. This incident reinforced Feenyx's upgrade of the security chief's status within the ship's systems and the _**Prometheus**_ began altering its code accordingly.

 **rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

_The second day of Reese's suspension passed in a pleasant haze of time spent in Feenyx's quarters; exploring their mutual desires and simply talking as their newfound connection deepened. By that evening, John had coaxed Harold back to his own cube for the night._

Harold Feenyx sighed, a sense of profound peace suffusing his entire being as he slowly came awake. Easing onto his back, Harold turned his head as much as his injuries would allow to find that he was alone on John's sleeping platform. The tech closed his eyes, sighing again as he carefully stretched; smiling at the lingering ache in muscles that he had not made use of in years. Reese’s absence did not disturb Feenyx, he knew the man was somewhere nearby.

“Morning.....”

The major’s sleep roughened voice warmed Harold’s heart. He looked up into the smiling blue eyes that had become so familiar to him in the past 48 hours; Reese's happy expression mirroring Feenyx's own.

“Good morning.”

John eased down at Feenyx’s side, placing the steaming mug he carried on the headboard shelf. The major leaned over and kissed him, brushing Harold’s cheek with gentle fingers before letting his lips trace a path along Feenyx’s jaw to his ear. Pulling back at last, John helped the older man sit up and handed him the still hot tea.

"Hungry?"

Feenyx nodded, savoring both the Sencha green and the knowledge that John had already memorized his preference in beverages. 

"I'd like to clean up first."

"Me too...." Reese's grin shifted into a decidedly mischievous smirk as the men rose and made their way to the lavatory. For his part, Harold was now a staunch advocate of the practicalities _and_ benefits that came with communal showering.

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

Later as they broke their fast in the security mess, Feenyx was conscious of the major's staff watching them. There were no overt stares, nor any sign of hostility; just a sense of curiosity from most of the officers. After a casual glance, Shaw ignored them as she did everyone and everything except direct orders; the ensign devoting the entirety of her attention to her breakfast. Szymanski and Hersch were talking quietly about the day's duty roster; eyes flicking occasionally in the direction of Reese's table.

Evans and Fusco however were seated closest to them and, unlike the rest of the security team, openly watched Reese and Feenyx with an almost smug fondness as they ate. Harold observed them unobtrusively for a few minutes before murmuring to his companion.

_"Your second in command and his friend seem to be...pleased with us for some reason."_

John chuckled, brushing Harold's shoulder with his own as he downed the last of his toast. He took a long swig of his coffee and leaned forward to whisper in Feenyx’s ear. 

_“Lionel is a hopeless match-maker and I’m his pet project. He worries I spend too much time alone; insists that I’d be happier with someone in my life.”_

John’s breath tickled the short hairs on Harold’s neck, sending a not unpleasant shiver down the tech’s spine.

_“Do you think that?”_

Feenyx’s question made John smile and he leaned even closer.

_“I do now. I’m happier than I have been in a long time, Harold.”_ and he kissed the tech full on.

Harold blushed to his hairline, darting a quick glance about the room to see if anyone had noticed and his face heated even more as he caught the wide grins on Evans’ and Fusco’s faces. 

Taking pity on the older man, Fusco stood up and turned to the others. "Alright, everyone to your duty stations.....dismissed."

The security officers dumped their trays into the recycle unit and exited the canteen, leaving their chief and Feenyx alone. Harold made an intense study of the table as he struggled to regain his composure.

"They like you Harold....well Shaw doesn't really _like_ anyone...don't take it personally. You've been accepted as a part of us, is what I mean."

Feenyx looked up, his expression a strange mixture of hope and apprehension. "That's an unusual paradigm for me; in the real world at least.”

John studied his partner for a long moment, deciding that the time was right to ask the tech something he'd wondered about since they first met.

"What happens when you link with the ship? What do you feel?"

“True acceptance...there is no other way to describe it. While in _rapport_ , I am a part of the ship itself. I belong, in ways that I never have with my human cohorts.” Feenyx smiled wistfully.

“As the ship utilizes my body and brain, so can I access _its_ systems....find malfunctions and pre-empt them before they manifest in actual problems. Of course this duality has its drawbacks.” Harold's lips twisted in distaste.

“You've seen for yourself how the link can affect me. If the ship is compromised, then the backlash for an IS is pure torture. There are still medics that insist the pain an Interfacer experiences when their ship sustains damage is purely psychosomatic. I'm thankful that Medic Tillman is aboard the _**Prometheus**_. At least she takes the health of an IS seriously."

The security chief wrapped his arms around Feenyx, pulling him into a reassuring hug. “I don’t understand how anyone seeing you in _rapport_ can dismiss your link....or its importance to all of us.”

Harold struggled to process what John was saying as well as his actions. He thought back to his time aboard the _**Ulysses**_ , roaming the fringes of the galaxy with Nathan Ingram, former CEO of IF Technologies. _Nathan always treated me with courtesy and respect but to have someone consider me special is..._ Feenyx found himself at a loss to wrap his brain around the idea. 

Everything that he was experiencing with John Reese was so startlingly new and different; the complete opposite of what most of his adult life had been like, that Harold wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it. One thing he _did_ know was that Reese was sincere.

_There will come a point when my true connection with the ship will be exposed. Perhaps John should know sooner rather than later...._ Feenyx filed that thought away for future contemplation, returning to the present as he realized John had asked a question.

“I’m sorry, I was thinking. What did you say?”

Reese smiled, knowing by now the reveries Feenyx was prone to getting lost in. “I asked if you’d like to take a hop in one of the maintenance shuttles? I think getting a full look at the _**Prometheus**_ would be of benefit to the ship’s IS, how about you?”

Harold’s smile was all the answer the major needed.

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

Harold Feenyx was ecstatic, as close to euphoria as he'd ever been in his life. His impromptu shuttle excursion with Major Reese had revealed the true extent of John's capacity to surprise him.

_The **MEMV** circled the **Prometheus'** hull with precision, giving Feenyx a bird's eye view of the great ship in all its glory. The explorer class vessel was sleek, its deep blue gray composite alloy skin reflecting the light from the infinity of stars surrounding it._

_Harold knew that the inner workings of his creation were breathtaking in their complexity and capabilities but to see that the physical structure housing them was just as elegant caused a fierce pride to rise within him._

_"He's beautiful isn't he?"_

_Feenyx turned to see the security chief also engrossed in the view._

_"He? I thought that vessels were traditionally referred to by the feminine pronoun."_

_John laughed. "They are but from the moment I set foot on board, I always thought of the **Prometheus** as 'he'. Could be my own personal biases carrying over though...."_

_Harold, having been on the receiving end of those 'biases' laughed in agreement. The ship felt masculine to him too when he interfaced with it._

_"You ever taken a walk, Harold?"_

_"A walk?"_

_Reese nodded towards the forward viewing panel. "An **EVA**."_

_Seeing his partner's look of wonder, John's smile widened. "Want to go outside?"_

_"Yes!"_

Now, back aboard the _**Prometheus**_ , still wearing their pressure suits, helmets tucked beneath their arms; the two men headed back to the security wing. Harold chattered on about the differences between the zero G chamber and raw space, oblivious to everything but John's comments and observations.

As they changed, stowing the suits in the communal hygiene suite, Feenyx made up his mind. "John, would you stay in my cube tonight?"

The major looked at him, noting the somber mood that had come over the other man. "Sure...anything wrong Harold?"

Feenyx smiled in reassurance. "No, no...just thinking." On impulse, Harold offered his hand and Reese took it in gentle fingers.

They returned to the IS's quarters and Feenyx steeled himself for a necessary conversation.

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

"So you can go into _rapport_ at any time,” John shrugged, not realizing the significance of Feenyx’s words, “that's what interfacers do isn't it?"

"To the best of my knowledge I'm the _only_ one alive with the ability."

Reese blinked, attempting to digest what he was being told. "I don't understand."

"Everything about being an IS, the training, the nano-implants and biosensors....it all revolves around one thing; control. The interfacer can only be sent into _rapport_ by an authorized member of the crew belonging to the ship they are linked to. They cannot initiate an interface on their own."

"No-one except you."

Feenyx nodded. "I'm risking a great deal by telling you this; my freedom, my very life is now in your hands John." 

"I would never betray you, Harold." The security chief's voice was earnest. "I hope you believe that."

"I do...if I didn't I wouldn't have mentioned it; nor would we have-"

"Become as close as we have?"

Feenyx nodded again, dropping his gaze. John's arms wrapped around the older man, drawing him back against the major's chest. "I hope you don't regret what we've done, Harold."

_"No!"_ Feenyx was adamant. "I feel relieved that someone knows, someone in whom I have confidence."

"Do you link with the ship often?"

"At least every few days. I can make a thorough check of the _**Prometheus'**_ systems without the onus of someone else's tasks taking precedence."

Reese rubbed his hands up and down his partner's arms. "May I be with you the next time you do it? I want to be sure you're alright."

Harold was surprised...he hadn't thought John would be open to such a thing. _After the past 72 hours, I shouldn't be though...John has already proven how much he cares for me._ The IS was deeply touched that Reese would offer to protect him.

"I would like that very much. I had thought to interface this evening after dinner. Once I establish _rapport_ , I'm usually linked for about thirty minutes." Harold grimaced. "It's not terribly exciting I'm afraid. All I do is lie on my sleeping platform until I come out of it again."

"I can prevent anyone from disturbing you. Being shaken 'awake' while interfacing can't be a good thing."

Harold shuddered. "No...it wouldn't.” He leaned back against the broad chest of his companion. “I’m glad to know you’ll be with me.”

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

Feenyx, clad in only his bio-suit, lay unmoving on the bed. True to his description, Harold had put himself into _rapport_ and been quiet for the past ten minutes. John watched him, his nervousness beginning to ease as he noted the slow, deep breaths the tech was taking and the calm stillness of his features.

_He must be okay...I don’t see any signs of distress or-_

Feenyx inhaled deeply, his body going rigid. John stood up, crossing over to the sleeping platform to see if he would need Medic Tillman’s intervention. The tech’s mouth opened and a deep, raspy voice emerged from Feenyx’s lips.

_**"greetings....reese."**_

"Harold, are you alright?" John's voice quavered, not at all certain what the IS' answer would be.

_**"nnnnot feenyx....."**_ Harold's eyes opened and he sat up, looking around the tech’s cabin as if seeing it for the first time. _**"this...Admin's....hdd -error....syntax correction- ....Admin's...hhhhome..."**_

_shit_ "Uh....yes, this is Harold’s cube.” Comprehension dawned and John swallowed hard. “Are you the _**Prometheus**_?"

_**"identification...affirmative"**_

"Where's Harold? What's happening?"

_**"Admin....here"**_ Feenyx's right hand reached up to touch his temple, even as the IS' blank eyes turned their regard to the security chief. _**"not...afraid...reese"**_

John felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. The ship somehow had taken control of Harold's body when he'd entered _rapport. This is getting too weird._

"Bring him back please."

The Harold-that-was-not stared at him a moment more before the IS' head nodded. 

_**"affirmative...close...interface"**_

Feenyx's eyes rolled back in his head and collapsed onto the sleeping platform, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

"Fraggin' hell! _Harold?!"_

John fell to his knees next to the bed, pressing his hands against Feenyx's chest and neck; frantically searching for a pulse. He exhaled in relief as he felt the tech's heartbeat beneath his fingers. Harold gasped, his eyes flying open and darting around before meeting Reese's own. He struggled to sit up, reaching out to grasp the major's hands as Reese pulled him upright.

"Damn-it Feenyx! What the hell was that all about?!"

Harold began to laugh, his face glowing with wonder and joy.

“This isn’t funny! The _**Prometheus**_ took control of you!”

"I know...amazing. The ship _spoke_ to you." Harold turned to him, grasping the major's arm. "It spoke John, for itself! Do you realize what this means?!"

"Why was your speech so broken? I've never heard you sound like that before when you've interfaced." Reese's concern was obvious and Feenyx patted his arm in reassurance.

"Because that was the ship's voice, not mine." Sensing Reese's confusion, he went on to explain. "Think of it this way.....during a normal interface, the captain for instance will ask questions. The _**Prometheus**_ supplies the appropriate data from its computers and relays that to the implants in my brain. My cerebral cortex _interprets_ that data into human speech."

"The process is smooth, more so than any translation software." The IS permitted himself a smug smile. "Even with all humankind’s technological advances there's no computer in the cosmos that can match the processing power of our own minds. But this time..." Feenyx inhaled, pride blazing in his eyes. He rose, pacing the length of his cube as he worked through his experience. 

"If we learn a different language, our brain has to process unfamiliar words and sounds....has to teach itself to recognize what those correlate to in our own tongue. The first time we try to speak it, it sounds stilted and broken because it is new to us. The ship is teaching itself to communicate with us." 

Reese sat down on the edge of his bunk. He was doing his best to come to terms with everything that had just happened. _I'm not a comp-tech or an interfacer....I'm just an ex-soldier._ Everything that Feenyx was telling him made sense in its way but why would the ship make contact on its own? 

"Harold....is the _**Prometheus**_ alive?"

The tech sat down beside the one person he felt connected to in all the universe. 

"In a sense, it is. There's much about this whole situation I don't understand myself yet, but John the ship initiated its own interface because it wanted to _meet_ you. It trusts you, because it knows I do."

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

NOTES: Contact has been made. More Rinchy smut and an angsty encounter in the next chapter....stay tuned space cadets!

 **MEMV (Manned Exterior Maintenance Vehicle):** a two or four person mini-shuttle designed for spot repair/checks by crewmembers on a larger ship. Explorer class vessels, like the _**Prometheus**_ normally carry a fleet of 4 **MEMVs**.

 **EVA (Extra Vehicular Activity):** a space walk in a pressurized, life-support suit.


	10. Orbital Erratic

Title: Rocket Man  
Chapter X: Orbital Erratic  
Rating: M  
Pairing: Harold Finch/John Reese  
Tags: slash, M/M, SF, interstellar travel, artificial intelligence  
Warnings: dubcon/noncon (in future chapters), military violence, alien/medical experimentation, verbal/emotional humiliation

NOTE: This chapter picks up exactly where chapter 9 ends. 

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

_"Harold....is the **Prometheus** alive?"_

_"In a sense, it is. There's much about this whole situation I don't understand myself yet, but John the ship initiated interface because it wanted to speak with you. It trusts you, because it knows I do."_

 

The IS continued to ramble on about complex computer systems and the advancements in pioneering artificial intelligence, oblivious to his partner's growing agitation. At last the major stood up, his next words cutting across Harold's one-sided narrative like a laser.

"Is it a threat to us? Are we in danger?"

Feenyx gaped at Reese. "What?!"

John's face was grim. "I need to know Harold. I'm chief of security on this ship, the safety of the entire crew is my responsibility and I'm asking you, is the _**Prometheus**_ a potential threat?"

The tech was completely taken aback. The warm, open man Harold had shared the last three days with was gone; replaced by this no-nonsense officer who now regarded him with wary caution. 

"John...why would you even think-"

"You just told me this ship is _alive_ Harold, or as near to it as a machine can be. How does it view the crew? What if it decides it doesn't want us aboard any more?"

Reese began to pace, his instincts to protect rising to the fore and bringing with them a surge of adrenaline that made it impossible for the major to remain still. "I have to consider the _**Prometheus**_ an alien life form and treat it with the same caution I would any new species we encounter. The difference is, this _alien_ also happens to be our life support. We make a final stop in this sector tomorrow. After that, we're totally dependent upon this ship until we complete our mission.” Reese’s eyes rested on the tech’s comstation.

"It could be watching us now, listening to our conversation...." he turned back to face the older man. "What if it doesn't like what it's hearing?"

Feenyx rose, limping over to Reese and reaching out to touch his arm. John didn't move but neither did he shrug off the contact. _That's hopeful at least._

"John, that will not happen."

"How do you know?"

"The crew is registered in the _**Prometheus'**_ network as adjunct parts of its OS. Organic components, for lack of a better term. As such they are integral to its functional routines. The ship can no more be rid of them than its core processors."

"What if it decides to alter its programming? From what I've just seen, it doesn't have a problem with taking actions on its own!"

"It won't."

"How can you know?!"

Feenyx rounded on him, driven to the point of exasperation at last. "I know because I _built_ it!"

This time the major did step away, slipping out of Harold's grasp to stare at him in astonishment.

"You what?!"

The IS eased himself into a chair. "I built it John....not the ship itself or even the assembled components of its hardware but the program, the code that is the very heart of the _**Prometheus**_. That _is_ my creation, every bit of it."

Reese looked at Feenyx with fresh eyes. This fragile-seeming man, so self-contained on the surface, was a study in contradictions of the highest order. _His knowledge of computers is off the charts. I know almost nothing about him....only what he's chosen to tell me. How can I be sure what's really the truth?_

John looked around at the well-appointed cube; recalling the state of the art technical specs he'd read on the ship. "It took a large amount of credits to build this vessel. _Alliance_ credits..." his eyes flicked back to Harold. "But you're not an Alliance official."

Feenyx sighed. "No, I'm not."

"So what are you? Some anonymous, altruistic _third party_?"

"John." Harold struggled to find the right words. _Why is it so hard for me to do this?_

"Does anyone else know their ship's IS essentially _owns_ it on the most basic level?"

"No."

"If the _**Prometheus**_ hadn't taken over your body would you have even told me what little you did?"

Feenyx studied the surface of his workstation. "No. There's much about myself that I cannot tell you....for _your_ safety more so than my own. All my life I've been a very private person. I've had to be."

Reese was surprised at how much the tech's answer hurt. He kept his face neutral, only nodding once to indicate he'd heard Feenyx. When he spoke at last, his voice was clipped and impersonal.

"I'm back on duty tomorrow." The major moved towards the door.

"John?"

Reese stopped, hand hovering over the control pad. "I promised I wouldn't betray you; I'll stand by that as long as the _**Prometheus**_ continues to function normally. If anything changes, I‘ll have to let the captain know...I won‘t have a choice." He paused as he heard Harold's uneven footfalls approaching behind him.

_“John...”_ Feenyx’s touch was gentle as his fingers rested on the major’s shoulder. “...try to understand, let me explain. Please stay.” Reese closed his eyes, working to bury the sorrow that threatened to overwhelm him. He shook his head.

"I have to think about all this objectively. I can't do that _and_ be with you. I'm sorry, Harold." John exited the cube, its door sliding shut behind him with ominous finality; leaving a confused and bereft Feenyx in his wake.

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

_**Djawadi Outpost space dock** _

_Neither man spent much time in sleep and when their respective chronometers indicated it was ‘morning’ both gave up any pretense at attempting to rest. Feenyx found a curt message from the first officer, summoning him to the bridge to stand duty._

_Major Reese left the security wing long before the tech emerged. The mess hall and corridors of the section were deserted; all the officers having reported to their stations. Feenyx took the lift up to the bridge and, steeling himself for what was sure to be an unpleasant eight hours, silently took a seat at his own console. For once Harold didn't mind being ignored; he was able to bury himself in the **Prometheus'** computer systems without distraction._

"Captain on deck!"

Everyone turned as Joss Carter emerged from the lift and moved to the command chair. "Commander, a civilian contractor is joining us for the first leg of our journey. Instruct the shuttle bay to stand by to receive him."

"Aye Sir." Donnelly tapped out a series of instructions. "Bay crew standing by, Captain."

Carter nodded. "Inform me when Mr. Pierce arrives."

"Aye Sir."

The captain retired to her office and the duty crew relaxed. A quiet buzz of conversation began; speculation centering on the Captain's announcement. Feenyx wondered who this 'contractor' could be and why he was taking berth on the _**Prometheus**_. 

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Twenty minutes later the lift doors slid open, disgorging a bustling energetic man. A shock of unruly dark blond hair kept threatening to obscure the sharp eyed gaze the newcomer trained on every corner of the bridge. 

Feenyx watched him, quietly taking in the smug twist of his lips and possessive, predatory air surrounding him. Harold's eyes were drawn back to lift, widening at the sight of Major Reese stepping out to shadow the contractor.

_John....._ Feenyx stilled as the security chief's gaze locked with his for an instant before tracking back to the visitor when the captain greeted him. Harold watched him sadly, wishing he might find a way to make Reese see that there was nothing to fear from the ship. 

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"Welcome aboard the _**Prometheus**_ Mr. Pierce."

"Thanks Captain....nice transport you have here." 

John Reese kept his eyes on their visitor, his dislike for the arrogant upstart growing with each passing moment. 

_John had spent the majority of the previous night turning his encounter with the **Prometheus** and the ensuing conversation with Feenyx over in his mind. It almost seemed surreal; being so far out of his normal realm of experience enough to leave him seriously off-balance._

The major struggled to make some sense of it all. He couldn't help sneaking looks at Feenyx. Harold's posture was drawn inward the slightest of fractions. To anyone else, he appeared the same as always but to Reese it was obvious the IS was unhappy. _You are too, if you'll own up to it._ He stiffened when Pierce paused at Feenyx's station, to stare down at the tech with speculative intent.

"Well, well, well...."

Harold lifted his eyes to see Pierce's reflection staring back at him from the display panel. 

"So, this is the interfacer. Is he any good?"

"He's performed adequately so far." Commander Donnelly's tone held a touch of scornful surprise and Feenyx felt the back of his neck flush at the implied insult. Pierce's laughter made Harold's teeth clench.

"Never seen an IS work. Can you put him through his paces?"

John bristled internally at Logan's presumption. He glanced at the captain. Joss's face was calm as she nodded to her first officer. Donnelly's eyes fairly gleamed at the chance to legitimately harass the IS.

"Stand up Feenyx."

Without a word Harold got to his feet, turning to face the others. Pierce leaned forward, snapping his fingers in the tech's face. 

"Open interface." Logan smirked, throwing an exasperated look at Carter.

"I think he's broken." Donnelly laughed at Pierce's comment.

Regardless of his personal disagreements with Harold, John found himself unable to stomach the sight of Feenyx's humiliation any longer. Joss caught movement from the corner of her eye and held her breath as her security chief prepared to intervene. _Damn it John, don't make me have to discipline you in front of everyone....._

To her surprise, Reese's expression remained neutral even as he stepped between Donnelly, Pierce and their hapless target.

"Only ship's personnel with proper security clearance are able to initiate an interface, sir." The major's tone was courteous, off-setting the glint of disapproval in his stare as chief and contractor locked eyes.

Pierce looked Reese up and down. "And I _don't_ , is what you're implying?"

John made no reply and Logan grinned, offering a nod to Joss. "Your watchdog is very efficient Captain.", he drawled mockingly. "That typical of the whole crew?"

Carter gritted her teeth....the contractor's attitude was beginning to grate on her as well.

"Every soul aboard is top in their specialties, Mr. Pierce."

Feenyx, who'd remained silent throughout this exchange, met John's gaze. Reese read entreaty in it and gave a minute nod in return. Harold's shoulders loosened and his eyes warmed. The trust John saw there made his chest tighten. _Whoever he really is, he still has faith in you, old soldier. All else aside, make this as painless for him as you can._

"Specialist Feenyx, will you consent to my initiating interface? With your permission, Captain of course."

Both chief and tech waited for Carter's nod. Feenyx inclined his head and relaxed in preparation. John's next words took all of them by surprise.

"Mr. Pierce, interface is a vital part of the ship's operations. Without the abilities of an IS, the _**Prometheus**_ would be unable to function at peak capacity. I hope this demonstration will give you an appreciation of how important he is."

The major turned back to Harold. "Open interface."

Feenyx 'blanked' as his link with the ship opened. His voice had the same resonance John had heard when they first left Calla Station.

_**"Voice recognition verified, Major."**_

"Identify all ships within a million kilometer radius."

_**"No other vessels are within search parameters at this time."**_

John followed up with a few more inquiries about their current sector and then, just to give Logan Pierce a taste of his own medicine made a final request.

"List the identification and specs of the transport currently in bay two."

_**"Private shuttle transport designation 589-AX4, registered to Pierce, Logan S. Matter-anti matter engine core, modified for deep space travel. Vessel is capable of supporting a crew of ten with a cargo capacity of-"**_

"That's enough Major!" Pierce was almost vibrating with fury.

"Stop." Feenyx fell silent, awaiting further instructions. John felt satisfaction in his bones. He knew the contractor would object to his personal information being relayed to the entire bridge.

"Close interface."

Harold's head dropped as a shudder ran through his frame. When he lifted it again, the eyes that looked back at John wore the familiar expression he was used to. 

"Thank you Mr. Feenyx." The security chief turned to Pierce a slight smirk twisting his lips. "I trust this puts things in perspective for you."

Logan's eyes flicked between Reese and the IS. "Yes indeed Major....I must admit it's been very enlightening. I think I'll retire to my quarters now. Thank you for your hospitality Captain Carter."

Joss, who was still processing Reese's performance, murmured an appropriate response and followed her chief and Pierce with her eyes as they exited the bridge. Donnelly, to Carter's private amusement was gaping in astonishment after Reese. The captain's gaze came to rest on Feenyx's back; the IS having returned to his comstation.

"I'll be in my office. Mr. Donnelly, you have the bridge."

Seated at her desk, Josslyn Carter for the first time in her life gave serious thought to just how an interfacer's duties affected them and began to wonder what in the galaxy made someone want to become one. 

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NOTES: Logan Pierce is an ass-hat! He's so much fun to write and all credit for that is due to the fact that the 'Person of Interest' writers created such a fantastically smarmy character. We have only just begun to scratch the surface of his douche-bagginess and our good Mr. Pierce has much more mischief up his sleeves.

There will also be some smut forthcoming in the next chapter so stay tuned faithful readers!


	11. Fractal Variations

Title: Rocket Man  
Chapter XI: Fractal Variations  
Rating: NC-17  
Pairing: Harold Finch/John Reese

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_I didn't sign on for this mission to spend my time baby-sitting an over-privileged, self-indulgent son of a-_

"Reporting as ordered Major."

Lionel's timely arrival cut short John's mental tirade. After six hours of 'shepherd duty' with the _**Prometheus'**_ guest, the major was close to stunning the man just to gain a bit of peace. Since their departure from the bridge, Logan Pierce had lost no opportunity to complain about the crew in general and the security chief in particular. It was only the fact that the contractor had retired to his quarters that the last portion of Reese's shift was solo outside Pierce's door. John sighed in relief when his second in command showed up to take his place.

"You have the watch, Lieutenant."

"Aye Sir." Lionel relaxed a fraction as he took in his commander's appearance.

"You alright, Major?" Fusco's voice was pitched low, insuring they would not be overheard.

"I'm fine Lionel...just had my fill of diplomatic duty for one day."

Fusco nodded, a grin creasing his features. He held out a small container. "I hear you, sir. I thought you might want this. I know you mentioned Specialist Feenyx liked tea and I had Szymanski pick this up while he was at the outpost." The Lieutenant nodded towards the metallic cylinder as the chief took it with a curious glance at his second. 

"Sencha green, that's his favorite right?"

John looked at him sharply, "This isn't **RMAT**? How did-"

Fusco's grin widened. He shrugged, feigning indifference even as his eyes radiated a smug light. "I know a guy who knows a guy. I put in a word with him a few cycles ago and I hoped it would reach Djawadi when we did. Glad to see things worked out."

Seeing the slight frown on his superior's face, Lionel faltered. "Uh...I'm not trying to horn in or anything. I just thought since you didn't have time to go looking yourself, I could do it for you. I don't mean to-"

John waved a hand to calm his second down. "Relax Lionel. I appreciate the thought but I don't think I'll be seeing Specialist Feenyx socially again anytime soon."

"I thought that you two were gettin' close." Fusco stepped nearer to his chief. "Look, it's not my business I know but things seemed to be going great." He paused, realizing that he was near to crossing the boundaries of superior/subordinate relations, before deciding to take the chance.

"There's always turbulence when you launch, just ride out the bumps and things will get smooth again. I got eyes, Major and I can see from 10 klicks away that Feenyx is crazy about you."

"Things aren't that simple, Lionel."

Fusco shrugged again, this time in empathy. "You have to learn each other, that's all. Rely on your instincts." He eyed the chief with respect. 

"Trust 'em, Major. You've gotten us out of more tight spots than the moon has craters. I'd follow you into hell and back, no questions asked. If your gut says Feenyx is bad news then I'll be first to tell you back off. I don't think he is though but I _do_ think you should say something soon."

"Why is that?"

Lionel rubbed the back of his neck. "He was looking really down when he came in after his duty shift, didn't stop to eat. I asked if there was anything he needed and he said that if I could arrange it, he might need the use of a cargo drone in the next cycle or two."

Reese sighed. _He's going back to his old cube....doesn't want to trespass. I've got to talk to him._ "Thanks Lionel. I'll take care of it."

Fusco nodded, even as he stepped into his watch position. "I hope so. Call me an old softy but what you and Feenyx have? It's good."

John took his leave and returned to the security wing. He was almost at his cube when he made an abrupt about-face and found himself staring at Feenyx‘s door.

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_Other than a brief exchange with Lieutenant Fusco, Feenyx had avoided contact with the other security officers. Retreating to his cube, Harold wandered through the living space that had felt more like a home to him than any in his life...certainly since his 'induction' into the IS training program. Although he had no wish to leave its comforts, nor the camaraderie of the security team; both paled in comparison to the loss of John Reese’s companionship._

_**I cannot in conscience stay, however. I'm the intruder here; it’s only fitting that I return to my original quarters.**_

_It pained Feenyx deeply.....the past month he'd spent getting to know Reese, coupled with their recent physical intimacy made Harold feel alive in ways he could never have dreamed of. His relationship with Nathan Ingram had been one of casual closeness and although his memories of the maverick executive were fond ones, they were shockingly superficial to the feelings he harbored for the security chief._

_**If I could just help him understand...the 'Prometheus' is no threat to us; it's curious, as any child is when exploring its world.**_

Even the flush of pride these thoughts engendered couldn't erase Harold's regret at the way things had turned out. He laid his personal valise on the sleeping platform and was halfway to the clothes niche when his door chime sounded.

Feenyx blinked in confusion, _who could possibly be wanting to see me?_ The sound came again and Harold limped to the cube’s entrance, palming the door switch. He inhaled in shocked surprise. “M-major?”

“May I come in?”

Harold nodded, moving to one side as he watched Reese make his way into the central living space. The security chief stood quietly, eyes downcast. Feenyx could clearly see the man’s jaw clench and relax; as if he were literally chewing on his thoughts.

Harold was at a loss as to what John’s presence could mean and falling back on courtesy at least gave the tech something concrete to focus on. “Would you like anything? Coffee-?” 

“No, I‘m fine.” Reese sighed, turning to look at the tech. Feenyx’s eyes were wide behind his lenses, anxiety clearly showing in their pale blue depths. Harold’s posture was tight, drawing in on himself as if in expectation of further denunciation. 

_‘rely on your instincts....’_ Lionel’s words came back to him as he regarded Feenyx. John’s gut was telling him that whatever else Harold may have been or done, there was no malice in him. “Harold I-”

“Thank you, John....” 

“What?”

Feenyx gave him a hesitant nod. “For what you said on the bridge. I want you to know that I appreciate both your words and your courtesy, regardless of how things fall out between us.”

Reese reached out to pull the smaller man into a careful embrace. “I’m sorry Harold. I do trust you....and I guess that means that I have to trust the _**Prometheus**_ too. It’s your machine after all.”

_“John...”_ the relief in Feenyx’s voice was only rivaled by the tightness of Harold’s grip as he returned the major’s hug. They stood there for some time without speaking, grounding themselves in the knowledge that what they’d started a scant three days was still very much alive.

“I really need a shower,” Reese murmured at last. “I’ve got to get the grime of Logan Pierce off me.”

“You can do that here, if you like.” Harold offered, watching to see if he might have misinterpreted anything. John’s smile caused his tension to ebb.

“I will then. Hey,” he scooped up the canister from where he’d left it by the door. “I brought you something....well, Fusco did really, but”

“But you would have if you’d been able to?” Feenyx chuckled at the chief’s look of embarrassment.

“Yes. Here.”

The tech looked pleased as he opened the container, inhaling the content’s aroma with enthusiasm. “Tea.... _real_ tea!”

“Lionel knows a guy.” Reese explained, smirking as he repeated his second’s comment.

“Tell him thank you and on both your behalf, I like it very much.”

“Would you do something for me, Harold?”

“Of course.”

John leaned in and kissed Feenyx’s ear, his breath warm on Harold’s cheek. “Take your biosuit off?”

Harold felt a tingling curl through his gut at the heat in John’s voice.

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When John emerged from the lavatory clad in Harold’s robe, Feenyx couldn’t hold back his laughter. The garment, which on it’s owner fell to mid-calf, barely covered Reese’s knees. The major had to hold it closed as the belt was too short to tie. John grinned good-naturedly. “S‘alright, I know I look ridiculous.”

“Quite the contrary,” Feenyx corrected as he extended a hand to the taller man. Harold, who had stripped down to his briefs, drew Reese close; resting his face against the broad chest. He sighed, listening to the sound of John’s breathing; deep, even respirations belying the rapid beating of Reese’s heart.

“Would you rather leave?”

“No.” John settled one hand on Feenyx’s waist, the other carding through spiky hair. “I want to be here, with you. I _need-_ ” 

“What is it?” Harold pulled back just enough to look up and his jaw went slack at seeing raw desire in the major’s eyes. 

“You, inside me Harold.”

“John?”

Reese’s skin shivered, as if something deep within him were trying to free itself. “I need to feel you, be part of you....”

“Alright.”

John released the older man, discarding the robe as he moved to Feenyx’s sleeping platform. He started to kneel on it when Harold’s voice brought him up short.

“No. _I_ need to see you.” Feenyx made him lie down, sliding to one side. Harold shed his last garment and gathering up the lubricant, eased in next to John. He leaned down to whisper in the major’s ear and Reese obediently closed his eyes, his awareness pulling in to center on the warmth of Feenyx's fingers. It was erotic yes and yet more somehow, as if Harold were paying homage to his body even as he loved it. Each foot was caressed, massaged with careful, diligent touches over its entire surface. The tech moved up both John’s legs in turn, resting on his thighs briefly when Harold leaned in to press a gentle kiss on his skin.

In the back of his mind, John was aware that the _**Prometheus**_ might indeed be monitoring them. That thought, while disquieting, was not enough to drive him away. _I have to accept that it’s probably watched everything we’ve done up to now already._ He gasped as Feenyx’s hands stroked his lower belly, avoiding his rapidly stiffening penis in favor of mapping his abdominal muscles. He arched his back, pushing against the tech's fingers.

“Alright John?”

“Yes...just want more.”

“I know.” Harold’s tone was reassuring and Reese felt the older man’s body press into his side, connecting them from shoulder to shin. Feenyx’s lips brushed John’s neck; moving up to kiss along his jawline until taking possession of his mouth at last. Harold’s fingers slid upwards, finding his nipples.

_“Harold....”_

Feenyx took his time, stroking the sensitive bumps; feeling them tighten in response to his stimulation. The major writhed beneath him, hissing when Harold tweaked first the right then left nub. With a final kiss the tech released John's lips, lowering his head and took one of the now tight, aching nodes into his mouth. John gasped as a tingling arced down his spine to his genitals. His cock twitched, pushing insistently into Feenyx's hip as Harold suckled him. He reveled at the attention just as much now as in their previous encounters. 

Reese had always been the dominant partner during sex; every one of his former paramours had _expected_ it, in fact. By giving up control to Feenyx, John was offering tangible proof of his trust in the older man. What he hadn't been prepared for was the sense of completion that washed over him. Harold was taking care of him, _loving_ him in a way that John had never experienced before. He gasped; Feenyx's caresses pushing him closer to the edge.

"How long has it been since-"

"Too long..." Reese panted, struggling to answer as Harold's fingers continued to tease him. "no-one, I felt safe with."

"You are with me."

"I know....want this, you."

_"John....."_ the quiet wonder coloring Harold's reply almost ended things right there as Reese fought to keep himself under control. He spread his legs, hands catching them behind his knees; angling his hips upward. Harold placed a pillow beneath John's lower back, to ease the strain on his arms.

_\--neither man noticed the appearance of a red dot on Feenyx’s com-screen as the security cam activated--_

Feenyx coated his hand with lubricant; reaching down to slide across the major’s anal ring. Harold positioned himself so that one shoulder pressed into John’s buttock; turning his head to kiss his lover’s thigh. Reese relaxed, lowering his leg so that it draped over the tech’s back. He touched the top of Harold’s head briefly before laying his free hand across his belly.

“There is no other place I want to be John, nor anyone else I’d rather be with.” Feenyx murmured as he stroked Reese's core. The major mumbled unintelligibly, his voice hitching at the warm finger pressing with gentle insistence against his opening. 

"Same here." Reese whispered, relaxing his muscles. He groaned as Harold's digit slowly worked deeper. John's world became Feenyx voice and the teasing coax of his touch; stretching him as the tech pushed ever closer to the centre of his very being. When at last he was ready; John was peripherally aware of Harold changing position and then fingers were replaced with something far more pleasurable.

Feenyx took his sweet time, alternating slow, smooth strokes with pulling out almost all the way before sliding in further each time. Reese’s cock was rock hard, lying stiff against his belly; its slit oozing precum in time with Harold’s thrusts. Feenyx’s heat was welcome; the warmth of his penetration thawing something inside John that had never been touched. This was not about power and control; of one partner’s dominance over the other.

It was a joining at its most fundamental level. John contemplated this for a full minute before Harold hit his prostate dead on and Reese’s higher brain functions shut down. 

_“Faster!”_ He growled out, spreading his legs wider to accommodate the other man. Harold hissed as John’s walls tightened around his length and grasping the major’s shoulders pounded into him with as much vigor as he was capable of.

Reese grunted with each thrust, feeling himself get closer to the edge until,

_“Harold, fuck!!”_

The sight of John spending over himself was too much and Feenyx’s own orgasm overtook him. His hips jerked involuntarily, balls slapping Reese’s scrotum as he rode out the final pulses of his climax. Harold started to lose his balance, only to find himself steadied as John’s legs locked around his waist. Gratefully the older man relaxed into the support, his hands dropping down to rest against muscular thighs.

Harold realized that he was still inside his partner but the major’s unusual ‘embrace’ made it impossible for his now softened organ to slip out. When risked a glance at Reese, Feenyx’s jaw dropped in astonishment. The smile of contentment on John’s face was echoed fully in his eyes.

Feenyx felt the legs encircling him tighten a fraction before slowly falling away. He pulled out and lay down at John’s side. Harold rested a hand on the center of Reese’s chest, once again feeling the strong and steady pulse of the younger man’s heart. John captured Harold’s other hand, kissing his knuckles before running his fingers over the biocuff encircling it.

“I know this is part of you now; know I’ll have to share you with the ship. I've made my peace with that because honestly, I don’t ever want to let you go, Harold.” 

“I will be here as long as you want me to be.” Feenyx replied, quiet fervor in his voice.

“Always then.” and Harold laughed at Reese‘s smug certainty.

“ _Always_ , John.”

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_Inside the **Prometheus’** guest suite, Logan Pierce was reviewing his options. His sole purpose for coming aboard had been to confirm the presence of Harold Feenyx. The contractor had turned up the IS’s name and career file during his search to find an interfacer for his personal ship. Feenyx, it seemed, was the best of the best and Logan Pierce never settled for less than that._

_Having seen Feenyx in action and judging by Major Reese’s active support, Pierce was quickly coming to believe the reports he’d read were true. He discounted most of the bridge crew’s reaction to the older man as the uneducated opinion of the masses; founded upon rumor and a love of scandal than actual knowledge. Feenyx slid seamlessly into and out of **rapport** and based on Pierce’s observations today, the ship was in perfect order._

Logan rubbed his hands together in delight. He’d been as thorough in his research on possible ‘retrieval scenarios’ as he had IS’s in general. _‘Reese is so protective of him....’_ The contractor snorted in contempt. _‘He’s probably screwing him, though God only knows why. It’s not like Feenyx is worth it.’_

There would be little chance of getting the tech alone to try and persuade him to void his contract with Carter. _‘So that means it’s on to plan B.’_

Pierce grinned. He was looking forward to what was to come. In the long run, it would pay off handsomely.

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NOTES: dun-dun-duuuuunnnnnnn! Hope you enjoyed the make-up sex before the storm. I wrote most of this before ‘Death Benefit’ aired so forgive my Reese being more trusting than the canon Reese. This is an AU after all!


	12. Impact Trajectory

Title: Rocket Man  
Chapter XII: Impact Trajectory  
Rating: M  
Pairing: Harold Finch/John Reese

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_John captured Harold’s other hand, kissing his knuckles before running his fingers over the biocuff encircling it._

_“I know this is part of you now...know I’ll have to share you with the ship and that’s fine because I don’t ever want to let you go, Harold.”_

_“I will be here as long as you want me to be.” Feenyx replied, quiet fervor in his voice._

_“Always then.” and Harold laughed at Reese‘s smug certainty._

_“Always, John.”_

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Things smoothed out between the two men as time passed. Most evenings John spent in Harold's cube; knowing the older man was most at ease in his own surroundings. Although the _**Prometheus'**_ sentience remained the proverbial 'elephant in the room', Reese found himself relaxing when the days after his renewed commitment to Feenyx turned into two weeks with no further manifestations of the ship's new abilities.

John's calmer outlook reassured Harold in turn and this mutual easing of tension resulted in a deepening of their relationship.

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_24 hours later_

"Specialist Feenyx!"

Harold froze in his tracks, heart sinking as he recognized the voice hailing him. Schooling his expression into his usual polite mask, the older man turned to see an unwelcome figure stride towards him.

"How may I assist you Mr. Pierce?"

The contractor eyed him sheepishly, pulling one hand up to rub the side of his neck. "I'm thinking it's more of a case of what I need to do for you, Mr. Feenyx."

Harold eyed him in curiosity. If he didn't know better he'd swear Logan Pierce looked embarrassed.

"I want to apologize for my behavior when I first came on board. I was extremely rude to you on the bridge that day and the only excuse I can offer is my own ignorance." Pierce ducked his head, wincing as he looked up again, his eyes full of regret. 

"Guess I bought into the stereotypes more than I thought I had and all I can say is that now I understand more how complex an IS's duties are." He held his hand out to the other man. "I have no right to expect you to accept my apology but I'd like to offer it in any case."

Harold couldn't help the niggling voice of skepticism that whispered in his brain. In all his experience as an interfacer, people of Logan Pierce's stamp had never changed their views on IS's, period.

Pierce's expression turned knowing and he chuckled at the doubt in Feenyx's face.

"I understand your distrust, Specialist Feenyx and perhaps I can lend a bit of credence to my words when I add that I did have a small request of you.”

Feenyx’s doubts settled into cool disdain. _I thought as much...he probably wants to ask me a parcel of very intrusive questions, which I will politely decline to answer before I walk away._ Harold opened his mouth to do just that when Pierce jumped in.

“It’s about my shuttle craft, Mr. Feenyx.” Logan blurted in sudden agitation. “It’s systems are showing some strange figures on my diagnostic scans and I’d hoped I might persuade you to take a look at them.”

“I’m afraid I cannot interface with any ship other than the one I’m currently bonded to, Mr. Pierce.”

Logan waved his hand in placation. “No, I know you can’t. Word around the _**Prometheus**_ though is that you’re a wizard with computers of all kinds. If you could run some scans on my shuttle’s systems; rule out a glitch in its comp functions or find out if there’s a true mechanical problem I’d really appreciate it.”

Pierce grimaced. “If I take off on my own in deep space with a mech issue waiting to happen then I’m as good as dead.”

Harold felt a twinge of guilt stirring in his guts. His fears had been effectively laid to rest by the contractor’s obvious need of his skills and by the fact that Pierce’s apology had been sincere than obsequious. He had the time and knew their visitor was now cleared to access most of the ship’s areas on his own, indeed John had mentioned the previous week that Pierce had been spending a lot of time in the shuttle bay of late.

_"Word is he'll be leaving soon." The major muttered as he spooned closer against Harold's back. "Good riddance to the bastard, I say."_

_Perhaps I might actually improve civilian/IS relations a bit by doing this. Or at least give John a reason to dislike him a little less._ Harold rationalized, not openly admitting to himself that he was curious to get a closer look at Pierce’s ship. The lure of a new comp system was like Siren song to Feenyx.

“Very well, Mr. Pierce. I am free at the moment if it is convenient.”

Logan’s grin was infectious. “That’s perfect! I can’t wait for you to see her, It’s rare I get a chance to show my ship off to someone who can appreciate the technology.”

Harold, being as susceptible to flattery as anyone, allowed himself to become fully engaged in his conversation with the contractor; never noticing that Pierce had waited until the corridor was deserted before approaching his quarry.

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_Oh my......_

Harold, staring open-mouthed at the sleek lines of the craft in front of him was oblivious to the sound of the hangar doors whooshing closed behind him. Pierce's shuttle was exquisite. Feenyx was no engineer true but as his eyes roved over the trim lines of the personal craft he almost began to salivate.

_This puts poor Nathan's **Ulysses** to shame._

Feenyx was dimly aware of the contractor expounding upon the composition of the shuttle's outer hull and it's engine capabilities, most of his attention still being focused on drinking in the aesthetic beauty of the ship as they walked a circuit around it. Stopping by the airlock, Pierce tapped the entry code into the control unit strapped to his wrist and both outer and inner doors slid open simultaneously.

He grinned again at Feenyx's surprise. "Sensors within them can read the pressure and oxygen levels in the immediate vicinity of the ship, over-riding the failsafe delay if necessary. Just in case I find myself in a tight spot and need to board immediately."

Harold raised an eyebrow but politely refrained from commenting. 

Logan laughed "Actually, I had the upgrade installed after a rather delicate set of negotiations went south. Word to the wise Mr. Feenyx, never accuse a Glyssothian of cheating in a poker game. Or if you do, damn well make sure you can outrun them!"

Harold's laughter mingled with the contractor's as they stepped aboard. 

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

 

Feenyx ran careful fingers over the cockpit control panels. _The technology here is every bit as sophisticated as that of the **Prometheus.**_ He leaned forward for a closer look, unaware of his companion palming something behind his back.

"Your shuttle is a marvelous piece of engineering, Mr. Pierce. Do you have more like this in your fleet?"

The contractor made a noise of negation. "I've found multiples of anything to be a waste of good credits. I always take my time and find the _best_ of what I'm looking for, get that and only that. One shuttle, one residence..." he whispered confidentially in Feenyx's ear. "One interface specialist."

_"What?"_ Harold turned in alarm just as Pierce jammed a hypospray into his shoulder. The tech slumped, only the contractor's arms stopping him from hitting the floor. Logan dumped him into a passenger chair and activated the medical restraints. Flexible metal bands designed to keep an unconscious patient safely in their seat locked around Feenyx's torso, hips and limbs.

Logan Pierce patted the tech's cheek with proprietary affection. "Just one IS, Harold...only the _best_ for me and my ship."

Pierce secured the hatches and strapped himself into the pilot's chair. He opened a channel to the _**Prometheus'**_ bridge.

"Flight, this is the shuttle _**Scofflaw**_ requesting permission to launch as per pre-arranged schedule."

_"Shuttle **Scofflaw** , be advised you have clearance from the captain to depart at your convenience. We wish you safe travels."_

"Affirmative, Flight. Message received and returned with thanks. _**Scofflaw**_ out."

Pierce fired up his engines as the hangar bay doors began to open and laughed as he emerged from the belly of the Prometheus. He flicked his eyes to his unconscious passenger, a look of triumph suffusing his face. "Got you Feenyx. I knew it was worth the effort to try this!"

**rocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketmanrocketman**

NOTES: Whoop, there it is! But wait, there's more to come! And hey, as this is a sci-fi fic, I had to have one tiny, obligatory Star Trek reference (forgive me).

Pierce's shuttle is named for the drink.

 **SCOFFLAW:**  
1/4 oz. lemon juice  
dash grenadine  
1 oz. dry vermouth  
1 oz. Canadian whiskey  
dash orange bitters

Stir well over ice cubes in a mixing glass, strain into a chilled cocktail glass


End file.
